The Eleventh Hour
by CubbiesFan1
Summary: A story from Race's past. On this particular Intelligence One assignment, Race encounters a number a questionable characters. But will he know who he can trust? And will he be able to stop a potential disaster that could launch the world's powers into war?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **28 March 2016: I am reposting this story. I had removed it to make some corrections.**

 **Author's Note: This story can be considered a "prequel" if you will. While we know quite a bit about Doctor Quest, Jonny, and Hadji, we don't seem to know as much about the past of Race Bannon and more importantly how he came to know certain people. Goddess Evie inspired me to write this story through one of her reviews of a previous story. And thanks to ForeverWells for "encouraging" me to write another story! I just hope you readers enjoy! Thank you!**

 **The Eleventh Hour**

Chapter 1

Seated in front of the roaring fire, Jonny glanced out the window. The first snowfall of the year had started, quickly blanketing the Quest Compound with an aura of peaceful tranquility. The silhouette of the lighthouse where his father, the illustrious Doctor Benton Quest, was currently finishing up his latest Questworld upgrades stood in the distance as the ocean waves gently caressed the shores of the vast property.

Rubbing his eyes, Jonny set down his tablet. He'd been studying for an upcoming mathematics exam, but needed a break. Hearing footsteps, he watched as his bodyguard and mentor descended the wooden staircase. Race had recently returned from a short excursion and Jonny could tell from the look on Race's face that he had ended up meeting up with his mysterious and seductive acquaintance, Jade.

As Race took a seat, Jonny grinned at the man and asked, "So how was your trip, Race?"

Seeing the boy's mischievous grin, Race eyed the teen with a lighthearted look and replied, "Exhausting. I'm glad to be back."

"Exhausting? Yeah, I bet." Jonny joked.

"Watch it, kiddo." Race waggled a finger at the blonde.

"You know, Race, you've never told the story of how you and Jade met."

Sighing, Race replied, "And?"

"So, I'd be interested to know more about it. She's quite…unique."

"That she is, Jonny." Rubbing his hands over his face, Race glanced around the room. "Well, your dad's going to be in the lighthouse for some time I imagine."

"So let's hear it." Jonny prodded.

"It's a pretty interesting tale to say the least." Race said as his eyes wandered, gazing back into the past. "I actually haven't thought about that assignment in a very long time."

"So you were on an assignment with Jade?" Jonny asked.

Laughing Race shook his head. "Hardly, kiddo. The first time I laid eyes on her I assumed she was going to kill me."

"Oh really?" Jonny's eyes went wide with excitement.

"Yep and to this day I'm not quite sure I was entirely wrong in that assumption."

Settling in, Race recalled his tale for the young Quest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Walking through the halls of the Intelligence One Headquarters flooded Race with a mix of emotions. It had been over two years since he'd been back to the Washington D.C. building and from the random looks he got from his fellow agents he wasn't sure his return was entirely welcome.

After the botched mission in Greenland that had killed his partner Agent Greg Temple, Race had been reassigned to duty at the field office in Kansas City and a year later he had been transferred yet again to Chicago. While the official report had not found any fault with Race's actions in the death of Temple, he knew that some of the more veteran agents held him in contempt for what had happened. While he had been told that reassignment was routine, especially with the less experienced agents, deep down he knew that he was being punished, at least unofficially, for what had happened. Not only had I-1 lost one of its best agents that night, they had also lost the lead on Lucius Kreed's buyer, Doctor Zin.

Sighing inwardly, Race pushed the memories from his mind, determined to focus his attention on whatever had prompted his recall to D.C. He made his way to his Director's office and was told by the assistant to have a seat and wait. Race kept his features neutral as he gave the woman a curt nod and took a seat in one of the three chairs that occupied the small front office.

His eyes kept drifting towards the clock on the wall and even though he felt like he had been waiting for hours, only about ten minutes had passed before the assistant turned to him and said, "You can go in now, Agent Bannon."

"Thank you." Race replied as he stood. Moving towards the Director's office he wrapped his knuckles against the solid wooden door.

"Enter." A strong, but tired voice replied.

Inhaling one more deep breath, Race opened the door and walked in. The office was spacious, with a large oak desk occupying the far end where the large windows displayed a view of the nation's capital building. A small conference table jutted out at a perpendicular angle from the desk obviously intended for informal meetings when the larger conference room, through a door off to the left, was not necessary.

Seated behind the desk was Director Stephens, current head of Intelligence One. He was an older man, but still well built with a stern look set upon his angular features. Race knew the Director was planning to retire in a few years, and he could tell that while Stephens came across as a hardnosed superior, the pained look in the man's eyes said his years with the agency had taken their toll on him and retirement couldn't come soon enough.

Seated at the conference table was another man that Race knew of, but had never directly worked with, Agent Philip Corbin. Rumor around the agency was that Corbin was the man that was being groomed to replace Director Stephens and while he would be the youngest Director ever to hold the position, Race knew Corbin's ambition had propelled him through the ranks faster than his colleagues. Normally, a man with such determination and drive could be seen as a problem amongst his fellow agents, however from what Race knew of Corbin that was not the case. He was highly respected and well liked, both for his dedication to the agency and more importantly for his work in the field.

"Take a seat, Agent Bannon." The Director gestured towards the chair at the table directly across from Corbin.

Race nodded and did as he was told, feeling the gaze of the other agent on him the entire time. _'Probably sizing me up.'_ Race thought.

"You're probably wondering why you've been called here, Agent Bannon," The Director stated.

"I assume for an assignment, Sir." Race replied.

Nodding the Director inclined his head towards Corbin, "I don't think you two have formally met."

Race shook his head as he looked across the table at the other agent who, from the look on his face, had more information about this meeting than Race. Extending his hand across the table Race introduced himself, "Agent Race Bannon."

Taking his hand, Corbin returned his gesture and Race took note that his handshake was strong. "Agent Phil Corbin," He replied. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Likewise." Race said and left it at that.

"You two can get acquainted later," Stephens guffed, "let's get straight to the point. You are being reassigned, Agent Bannon. Agent Corbin here is your new partner for this assignment."

Race nodded and kept his emotions in check. It had been over six months since his last field assignment, so getting a chance to get out and prove himself once again brought that spark back into his chest that Race had been missing. "What's the assignment?"

Corbin slid a folder across the table to him and as Race opened it and began studying the documents, Corbin spoke, "We're going after a man named Vostok."

"A Russian, huh?" Race looked up briefly at the other man.

Nodding Corbin continued, "A former General in the Soviet Army turned criminal and rogue after the fall of the Berlin Wall. He has high level former KGB contacts as well as a group of loyalists from his military days. The word on the street is that Vostok is looking to procure some high tech weaponry that could be used to incite conflict between the sympathetic Russian populace and other major European countries."

"What kind of weaponry? Like a nuke?"

"Let's hope not," Corbin said as he rubbed his chin. "We don't think he has that capability at the moment. From what we've heard over the international chatter, he's looking to blow up some sort of mass transit system. You know how it is, high causality numbers and instant panic. He basically wants to make it look like his people are being attacked. His ultimate goal is to restore Russia to what he believes is its 'glory days' when the Soviet Union was at the height of its world power." Pausing momentarily, Corbin's face turned dark before he added, "The sick son of a bitch is willing to kill his fellow countrymen and women in order to satisfy his own personal agenda."

"A simple terrorist attack?" Race pondered. "So why us? Why isn't INTERPOL heading this?"

Corbin glanced at the Director before he continued, "We don't think it's as simple as just a terrorist attack. We believe Vostok is attempting to make contact with former Kazakhstan scientists that went into hiding when the Soviet Union collapsed. The same scientists that worked on the Soviet Union's bioweapons programs. We believe part of his plan is to make it look like the United States and possibly our European allies are behind the attack."

Race set his jaw as he took in the information. "He plans to set off a dirty bomb."

"If Vostok can succeed in setting off a biological weapon in a Russian or former Soviet Bloc region mass transit system and make it appear that his people are under attack, he can very well weasel his way back into the Kremlin." Corbin said. "Especially if he convinces the Russian people that we were behind the attack."

"And once there," Stephens threw in, "He'd be in control of all of Russia's military and intelligence personnel. He could very well start the war that we prevented during the Cold War."

"Do we know where he is?" Race asked as he scanned Vostok's dossier.

"Unfortunately, we do not." The Director replied.

"The last word we received from our contact in Warsaw," Corbin stated, "was that some of Vostok's men were spotted in Prague."

"I feel there is a 'but' coming." Race threw in grimly.

Corbin smirked at him, "However, we've lost contact with our agent in Poland. What we do know is there is a biodefense symposium taking place in Prague at the Aria Hotel later at the end of this week. It's highly probable that Vostok is planning to be there to at least make contact, if he hasn't done so already."

"What do we know about these scientists?" Race inquired, his mind settling in to absorbing the information and developing courses of action.

"The man we know of is Doctor Askar Arman of the former Soviet region of Kazakhstan. He's allegedly been in contact with Vostok's people. Arman was a lead researcher on the Soviet's biological weapons program dealing with agents ranging from Anthrax to Smallpox. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Arman and his colleagues went into hiding. Some have surfaced throughout the years in places such as Germany, North Korea, and even sanctuary countries such as Peru."

"And Doctor Arman has been sighted in The Czech Republic?" Race asked.

Corbin nodded, "As recently as last week. In addition to his expertise in bioweapons, he's fanatically obsessed with Renaissance period artwork. He's been making a lot of inquiries on pieces of art that made us suspicious."

"Suspicious about his income?" Race picked up.

"Right," Corbin replied. "A defunct Soviet scientist should not be raking in such large amounts of cash unless he's prostituting himself to the highest bidder."

"And we think Vostok is next on his list as a potential customer. Hence why we haven't nabbed him yet. Let Arman lead us to the bigger fish." Race concluded.

"Exactly." Phil smirked.

"So, that's why you two leave immediately." The Director said as he stood, causing Race and Phil to do the same. "Agent Corbin has all the details and can fill you in on the rest on the plane, Agent Bannon." Both men nodded back to the Director as they turned to leave. "Good luck, you two. I don't think I have to remind you of how important it is that we stop Vostok at all costs."

"Understood, Sir." Race replied then followed Agent Corbin out the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jade awoke to the ringing of her cell phone. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she glanced briefly at the clock on the nightstand next to her bed, it displayed the time as 03:47 A.M _. 'This better be worth it.'_ She thought to herself as she answered the call.

"What is it?" She asked.

The voice on the other end was coarse. "I have a proposition for you, Miss Jade."

Recognizing the voice, she replied. "It better be worth the effort this time. Your last job was fairly unremarkable."

A short laugh bled through the phone, "Oh this will be. I'll pay you double your normal asking price."

Weary of such an offer, but not willing to pass up such a hefty payoff, Jade sat up, fully awake. "I'm listening."

"One of my associates will meet you at exactly 5 A.M. I will text you the location. You'll be given your instructions at that time. Bring me what I desire and your payment will be wired into whichever one of your accounts you choose. Do we have an agreement, Miss Jade?"

Already on her feet and moving, Jade replied, "Tell your man I'll be waiting." With that she hung up.

Striding towards the bathroom, Jade grinned at her sultry reflection in the mirror. "Time to go to work." she said aloud.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shortly after takeoff Race settled in and began to read up on the I-1 packet that had been provided. Hearing the cockpit door open, Race lifted his eyes from the documents and watched as his new partner emerged from behind the door; besides the crew, the two agents were the only other people on the private I-1 jet.

Taking a seat across from Race, Corbin handed him a cup of coffee. Taking a sip he studied Race with a steely gaze. Finally setting the cup down, but keeping his hands wrapped around it, Corbin said, "So, you've probably got a lot of questions."

Race took a drink, then replied, "Sure, Agent Corbin. Reading over this packet,"

Corbin smirked as he raised a hand. "First off, even though I am the senior agent here, call me Phil. We have to drop the formalities right now so we don't slip up once we are on the ground. Second, and I think you know this, that's not what I meant." He gestured at the packet, waving it off.

Sighing, Race closed the folder, "Well, in that case, yeah I do have some questions."

"Shoot." Corbin said as he leaned back in his chair.

"Why me for starters?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, Corbin replied. "Why not you? I assume you want to be back in the field, yes? Assigned more meaningful missions than you had in Kansas City or Chicago."

"I was growing tired of working drug stings that's for damn sure." Race studied the other man intently, but Corbin betrayed no signs of emotion. "But I assume you already know my history."

"Of course I do, Race." Phil's reply was even. "I wouldn't have requested you for this assignment without knowing a bit about the man that's going to have my back."

"So, what's your opinion?" Race narrowed his eyes as he watched the other man who appeared unfazed by Race's tension.

"Look, what happened in Greenland happened. I, for one, do not hold you responsible for Temple's death. We all know the risks that come with this profession." Corbin's reply sounded genuine enough. Continuing he said, "To be perfectly frank, I believe you got a raw deal and no one in the agency had the intestinal fortitude to come out and say it to your face."

"Really?" Race drawled.

"They railroaded you." Corbin stated. "Temple was a good agent, but he was also a loose cannon at times. Greenland wasn't the first time he'd found himself in a tight spot because he charged in without thinking. Unfortunately, that time it cost him his life. You were a rookie on your first field assignment. Of course they used you as the fall guy. But even with that hanging over your head you continued to perform admirably and well above most of your peers."

"You've been watching my career?" Race asked with a hint of suspicion. "Why such interest in me?"

Corbin shot the other man a smirk, "Stop being so damn defensive, Bannon. You're a good agent and you know it. You still hold the speed record for the training course three years later. The closest anyone's gotten to your time is almost a three minute difference. That alone makes you stand out. Add on to that your military background with the SEALs and your performance since the mission in Greenland and you've got unlimited potential. It's just no one wants to give you chance."

"No one but you." Race shot back.

"When I see potential and dedication, I utilize it," Phil said with another shrug. "Question my motives if you want, but your ass is here on this plane and not sitting in a crappy office in Chicago anymore."

Race took in his companion's words, "I guess I do owe you that. But what about you, Phil?"

"What about me?" Phil quipped.

"What's your game?"

Phil smiled as he downed the rest of his coffee, "I don't have a game."

"Everyone knows you have your eye on the Director position."

"So what? I have goals. I have ambition and any person that doesn't shouldn't be here. I abhor stagnation."

"Sometimes when a man is focused on one goal he loses sight of what's right in front of him."

"How poetic, Race." Phil joked. "Here's the thing. Director Stephens isn't going anywhere for another few years. If I get offered the position at that time, you're damn right I'll take it. But for now, my focus is on this mission. As it is on any mission I'm assigned. I requested you for this assignment because I know you have that same focus, more so than anyone else I'm willing to work with. Right now our priority is finding Vostok."

Race nodded. He liked Phil Corbin. The man was upfront and honest, no bullshit, and Race could work with that. Something told Race that the man sitting across from him would definitely be the Director of Intelligence One and sooner rather than later. He just hoped that they weren't already too late to stop Vostok.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"General, all is ready." The young Lieutenant stated with a sharp salute.

"Very good." General Vostok stood as a wicked smile spread across the man's lips. His sharp jaw line, accented by his thick, dark mustache and bald head gave the former Soviet Army General the appearance of strict authority. His men never questioned his orders and never crossed him. If they did, Vostok ensured they would meet with a very unfortunate end. "And what of our perspective target?"

"Our men are watching him closely, per your orders." The Lieutenant replied, his eyes staring straight ahead, not following the General as he moved across the small office.

"And the merchandise?" Vostok asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Loaded and secured."

"Very good, Lieutenant. Now, let us go and meet our friend Doctor Arman." Vostok laughed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After having waited for the designated time at the airport, Race made his way through the doors of the historic Ventana Hotel in the heart of Prague's Old Town. Before leaving, Corbin had instructed Race to meet him at the hotel after he had gotten himself checked in. The two men had parted ways at the airport as to not raise any possible suspicion. As Phil pointed out, at this point, they had to work off the assumption that foreign agents and Vostok's men were already in the city and watching. Agreeing with the other agent's assessment, Race had waited on the I-1 jet for two hours prior to making his way towards the heart of the city. During his wait, Race had taken the time to memorize as much of the assignment file as he could.

The Ventana Hotel was a blend of old world and new. The historic building sat in the shadow of the Tyn Cathedral as well as the Old Town Hall with its world renowned Astronomical Clock. Nodding his head with approval at I-1's willingness to splurge on their accommodations, Race made his way towards the counter. Greeted by a young Czech woman with long dark hair that matched her almond colored eyes, Race proceeded to check in.

After making his way to his suite, he took a quick shower and changed. Tucking his weapon into his small of the back holster, he grabbed his jacket and made his way towards the room where Corbin was staying. Knocking three times on the door, Race waited a few moments for his new partner to let him in.

"You ready for this?" Phil asked as he walked back into the room. Closing the door behind him, Race followed the other man into the large suite.

Taking a seat on the couch, Race replied, "Let's get down to business I say." His eyes took in all the gadgets and tech that were spread out on the coffee table between them; Phil had brought the items with him prior to departing from the airport. Seeing the detection device on the table, Race made the assumption the veteran agent had already swept the room for listening devices.

Corbin smiled as he sat down across from Race. Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and went over the initial plan. "We'll head out to Wenceslas Square where we'll meet up with our contacts here in the city. You've got the lead on this one, Race." He gestured at the ear implants on the table, "The ear piece fits perfectly, designed for both comfort and concealment. No one will be able to see it."

Race grinned and grabbed one of the devices from the table. Lodging the delicate instrument into his ear, Race nodded his approval. "What else have we got?"

Phil chuckled, "Everything we'll need. The microphone attaches to the inside of your collar and will pick up your voice at normal levels. They're engineered to filter out background noises as well."

Attaching the mic to his collar, Race felt a rush of excitement surge through his veins. The thrill of the field was back and it made him feel invigorated and alive once again.

Shaking his head, Phil smirked, "You look like a damn kid in a candy store."

"We didn't get this kind of tech busting up drug rings in the Midwest."

"I know." Phil replied as he put his own ear piece and mic into place.

"So who are we meeting up with?"

"Two of our international partners that are stationed here in Prague. They'll be disguised as tourists. In the middle of the afternoon, Wenceslas Square will be crawling with tourists and business people taking a midday break. For this meet the more people around the better, so we draw less attention to ourselves. You'll meet at the Southeast end near the Monument. I'll be providing over watch from the steps of the Czech National Museum. Too easy, right?"

Race smirked, "Yeah, too easy."

Phil stood, gathering up the equipment from the table he quickly stashed it away. Slipping on a jacket and grabbing his sunglasses he smiled at Race, "Then let's get to work."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **29MARCH2016: I've made some corrections to this chapter that should help clarify some things for later down the road.**

Chapter 2

Squinting against the afternoon sun, Race took a seat on the bench next to the Monument at the heart of Wenceslas Square. Sipping a cup of local java he picked up from the vendor across the square he glanced about casually, taking in the people that strolled through one of Prague's many historical landmarks. As his eyes drifted towards the steps of the National Museum, he saw his partner take a seat on one of the ledges at the top of the steps. Corbin sipped a bottle of Coca-Cola as he surveyed their surroundings.

As tourists mingled amongst the locals, Race walked through the details of the meet in his mind. Yawning, he covered his mouth, attempting to fight off the onset of the jetlag he felt creeping up on him. Raising his cup to take another sip of the surprisingly strong brew, he spoke into his mic, "See anything yet?"

"Nothing." Corbin's reply came through his ear as clear as if the man was seated next to him. "Keep your eyes open."

"Understood."

Looking down on the Square, Corbin watched Bannon as the white-haired agent took another sip of his drink. Doing the same, Phil watched the people that wandered about the area, keeping his ears attuned for any hint of a Russian accent around him. His eyes locked on to an elderly couple as they moved across the square from one of the street vendor carts towards Race.

Phil raised his bottled to his lips and said, "Possible contact."

Seated on the bench, Race made no move or indication that he had heard his partner, but Phil knew that the message had been received. While Director Stephens had questioned Corbin's choice of Race Bannon as his partner for this assignment, Phil knew Bannon possessed the necessary skills and street smarts needed to conduct covert ops and was currently proving just that.

As the couple made their way towards the horse statue, Corbin turned his attention back towards the rest of the crowd, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone that seemed overly interested in either Bannon or the elderly duo.

"Excuse us, young man." The elderly woman said with a Southern American accent.

Turning his attention to the old couple, Race shot them a warm smile. "Yes?"

"Oh good," The lady replied with a wave of her hand. "I was hoping you were an American. Something about that handsome face of yours just screamed American made."

Trying not to blush, Race kept a smile on his face and said, "Well,"

"Could you be a dear and take a picture of Henry and I? You see, our grandkids sent us here on a second honeymoon and wanted us to get as many pictures as possible." Inclining her head at her gentleman companion she asked, "Or is this our third honeymoon, Henry?"

Rolling his eyes, the man replied, "Quit bothering the young fellow. Can't you see he's looking for love?"

Laughing, Race stood as the old man spoke the code phrase. "Of course I'll take your picture."

"Oh thank you so much." The woman beamed. Moving out of the couple's way, Race switched places with them as the man named Henry handed Race a digital camera.

"Just make sure you get the horse in the picture." Henry said as Race took a few steps back and snapped the picture. He was sure that no one around them had taken any interest in their actions; people asked others to take pictures all the time.

"Well, I think I got it." Race said as he lowered the camera.

"Thank you again." The woman said as she patted Race's arm. "If you happen to find a nice young lady, I suggest you take her to the concert at St. Martin in the Wall tonight. They'll be performing a lovely rendition of Mozart's Requiem in D Minor."

"Thanks." Race replied as he pocketed the camera. As the couple moved off towards the Museum, Race turned and headed off through the Square.

Phil watched the encounter out of his peripheral vision and as Race walked off from the horse statue, Corbin stood and headed down the steps, passing the elderly couple without even a glance in their direction as they made their way up towards the entrance of the museum. As he reached the bottom of the steps, a strange sensation caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Glancing towards the vendor stand, he thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar face; a familiar female face. But as he scanned the crowd, the woman he thought he had seen was not there. Still, the feeling left him with a sense of unease. Pursing his lips, he shook off the feeling and headed off in a different direction than Bannon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Watching the I-1 agent from the shadows of the small alley behind the vendor, Jade breathed a sigh of relief. _'Stupid move, Jade._ ' She cursed to herself. She'd only just arrived and had almost been made by the tenacious I-1 agent.

The unexpected appearance of the Intel man set Jade's nerves on end. Why was Intelligence One in Prague and could they be looking for the same thing she was? She doubted it, but Agent Corbin's presence gave Jade reason for pause; something big was possibly going down and she needed to know what exactly that _something_ was.

As Corbin moved off and out of her line of sight, Jade took a sip of her coffee and whispered, "Now, just who exactly were you watching, Agent Corbin?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hands on his hips, Vostok glared approvingly as his men unloaded the bulky containers from the back of the old military transport truck. Having arrived right on schedule, Vostok and his men headed straight for the old farm house in the small farming village of Lidice just Northwest of Prague. His comrades on the ground had already persuaded the old farmer to "allow" them to use his property.

Coming to stand at his side, Colonel Nikolai Yasimov reported to his General. "General, we will be set up within the hour. Peter can begin assembly of the devices as soon as the men have finished moving the components into the barn."

"Good, Nikolai," Vostok mused. "However, we are still in need of our friend, the good Doctor."

"Do you think that Doctor Arman will be interested in our offer?"

"I do not care if he is interested or not." Vostok growled as the brisk, autumn wind whipped about his muscular form. "He will provide us with what we require. It is up to him if he cooperates. Regardless, his fate is already sealed."

The edge of the blonde Colonel's lip curled into an excited sneer. "Yes, Sir." Then he added, "What about the rest of the materials?"

"Peter can begin assembling the devices with what we have provided. The rest we will just have to procure."

Nikolai nodded, "Understood, General."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pacing the length of her hotel room, Jade scowled as her call continued to its fifth ring. Stopping in front of the mirror, she gazed at her reflection, disturbed at she appeared to be so wound up. Enticed by the lucrative offer, Jade had never once thought that there could be more to this job than what she had been told. However, her happenstance sighting of the American Intelligence Agent had changed all that. Even if I-1 was here for different reasons, it made her job that much more complicated. Any chance encounter with the intelligence agency could greatly hinder her mission, not to mention she imagined Agent Corbin was still sour from the last time they had crossed paths. The memory made Jade smile.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself just as her call was picked up, "I knew you were good, but I can't imagine you've already finished the job." The male voice on the other end stated.

"We've got a problem." Jade reported, her tone conveying her frustrations.

"What problem?"

"There are American Intelligence Agents here," Jade shot back. "What's this really all about?"

The man on the other end was quiet for some time, leading Jade to believe the news was just as much of a shock to him as it had been to her. Finally, "That is not a problem."

"It's a problem for me. Do you think they're here for the same thing I am?" Jade asked.

"It does not matter why they are there. Your only concern is to retrieve what you are being paid to retrieve."

"What if they interfere?" Jade pushed.

"Then eliminate them." The man replied coolly.

Jade sneered at the order. "I'm not a killer."

"I've heard that for the right price, you will do anything." The man chuckled.

"Save it," Jade said. "It's not like they're some hired goons or lowlife scumbags. These are highly trained professional agents. You can't just off one of them so easily. But even if you could, you'd have the American Government breathing down your neck. I didn't sign up for that."

"Are you dissolving our contract, Miss Jade?" The man's words were laced with venom.

Sighing, Jade brushed a hand through her dark hair. "No, of course not. I'll get you what you want, but the price just went up."

"I see."

"I want a ten percent increase on my payment."

"Five." The man countered.

Sticking to her guns, Jade held firm. "Ten or you can come here at get it yourself for all I care."

Another pause and then, "Fine. Ten percent. But if those agents get in between you and my merchandise,"

"Don't worry," Jade smiled wickedly. "If they get in the way, I'll take care of them."

"Very good. Do not call again until you have gotten what you've been hired to retrieve."

Jade ended the call and placed the cell phone down on the dresser. As her reflection gazed back at her, she felt a calm wash through her body. With a coy smile she said, "For an additional ten percent, I'll make sure Agent Corbin and whomever is working with him do not interfere."

Striding into the restroom, Jade turned on the shower. She had to get ready for her next meet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back at the hotel, Race withdrew the camera from his jacket pocket and handed it to Corbin before taking off the garment. As Phil powered up his laptop Race went over to the kitchenette and grabbed two bottles of Staropramen beer from the mini fridge. Grabbing an opener from the counter, he popped the tops off than went and sat down.

Setting one of the beers on the table in front of Phil, Race observed his partner. His brow furrowed, Race watched the other man open the camera and push on the inserted card, causing it to pop out. Withdrawing the memory card, Phil set it on the table then grabbed the beer. "Thanks." He mumbled.

Race took a long pull from his own bottle then said, "So did you see anything back at the Square?"

Phil shook his head, "No. If Vostok is here, either he doesn't know we are or he doesn't care."

"What else?" Race asked. Since they had met back up, the other agent was acting strange.

Taking a drink, Phil looked at Race and said, "It's nothing. I thought I might have seen someone I recognized, but it must have been a trick of the light."

"Who?" Race asked, but before Phil could answer the laptop whirred to life.

Turning to device on the table so they could both see, Phil inserted the card from the camera into the corresponding slot. As Phil clicked past the plethora of photos, Race chuckled as he took another swig of his beer, "Those two took a lot of pictures."

Smirking Phil agreed. "No kidding. But they had to make sure no one suspected they were anything more than a happy married couple on vacation."

"They played the part well, that's for sure." Race added, "I didn't know I-1 employed such a, how do you say, wide variety of agents."

Looking back at Race, Phil shook his head, "They don't work for I-1. Like I said before, they work for one of our international partners. Those two were so good you didn't even realize they weren't really Americans, did you?"

Race couldn't hide his shock, "Not at all. But aren't they a little old for field work?"

Phil shrugged as he turned his attention back to the computer. "Some people just can't give it up."

"That's going to be you one day, Phil." Race joked.

Taking a drink, Phil grumbled. "Bullshit! When I retire, I'm done."

Race laughed, "Yeah right. I'm gonna remember that." Not realizing he had already down the entire bottle of beer, it was smooth after all, Race stood, "You want another?"

"Sure." Phil said as he scrolled through the folders displayed on the laptop screen.

Clicking on one of the folders, a number of documents appeared on the screen. Clicking on the one labeled symposium, they found a roster of attendees and the name of the keynote speaker at the dinner, a Doctor Benton Quest.

"You know him?" Phil asked as he gestured at the name on the screen.

Shaking his head, Race replied, "No. Should I?"

"He's an up and coming R&D scientist and recently published a paper on bio-defense, hence his invitation to the symposium as a guest speaker. His wife, Doctor Rachel Quest, is well known amongst the scientific community for her work in the biomedical field and is already behind some remarkable advances in the field of medicine. Mark my words, Race, Quest Enterprises, their private start-up research firm, is going to be huge someday."

"A couple of brilliant eggheads, huh?" Race joked.

"Smarter than the two of us, that's for damn sure." Phil replied with a smirk as he took a swig of his beer.

"This dinner isn't until Saturday evening," Phil said as he returned his attention to the documents. "That gives us plenty of time to locate Vostok."

"You think he's already in Prague?" Race asked.

"He has to be." Phil said as he leaned back from the laptop. "It wouldn't make sense if he wasn't."

"What if we can't find Arman or Vostok?" Race thought. "We don't even know Vostok's target."

Phil rubbed his chin at Race's words. "That's part of the problem. If we can't stop the exchange of the biological agent that Vostok plans to integrate into his weapon, we would need to stop the actual attack." Nodding at Race's revelation, Phil said, "Good thinking, Race, but let's hope we can find those two men first."

Race agreed and reached for the computer to scroll back to the previous folders, searching for one that had previously caught his eye. "What's this?" He mused.

Leaning in to look at the document, Phil studied it with a look on concern.

"This looks like a list of bomb making materials. We used similar components during my days with the SEALs." Race explained.

"Probably a list of items that Vostok couldn't get on his own?" Phil pondered. "Can you get this stuff here?"

"Possibly, but it would definitely cause suspicion." Race replied. "But I'd bet that the Garrison has these items." The mention of the Prague Castle soldiers caused both men to frown. "The question is, is Vostok bold enough to infiltrate the Castle?"

"If it's his only option, I'd say yes." Phil replied.

"Then we need to warn them."

"I don't know, Race," Phil scratched the side of his face as he spoke, "If we alert the Garrison on nothing but a hunch, then not only is our cover blown, but if Vostok finds out then he'll just go back into hiding."

"Phil," Race started.

"How about this, Race? Tonight we concentrate of finding Arman before Vostok does. Then we'd at least we'll have tabs on the Kazakhstani. Tomorrow, we'll check out the Garrison's security situation. Vostok can't do anything with Arman at the moment, but if we can't catch them tonight I'd bet money they'll be at the Castle tomorrow."

"Sounds logical." Race agreed even though he wasn't too keen on the idea of not informing the Castle Guards of a possible threat.

As if to reaffirm his position, Phil added, "The priority is making sure that Vostok doesn't get his hands on a biological agent from Arman."

"So how do we find Arman?" Race asked.

"Where did the old lady tell you to go tonight?" Phil asked.

"St. Martin in the Wall. What is that anyways?" Race asked.

Raising an eyebrow at the other man, Phil said, "Really? Next time I'll make sure you have a geography and history lesson prior to arrival."

"What?" Race laughed.

"It's a church." Phil smiled. "Jesus, Bannon, at least _try_ not to live up to the stereotype of being a knuckle-dragging grunt. Good thing you're not a tutor."

"Like I'm supposed to know it's a church. I've never been to Prague before."

"Neither have I, Hero. But I do know how to read a book." Phil joked as he took another drink.

"Screw you, Phil." Race laughed. Unlike his previous partners since Temple's death, Race felt at ease with Corbin. He took his job seriously, but also had a sense of humor and from what Race could tell, the intelligence necessary to make on the spot decisions that could mean the difference between life and death.

Opening up the internet tab on the laptop, Phil did a quick search for the concert times at St. Martin. "What concert did she say?"

"Mozart." Race replied.

As Phil scanned the times, he joked, "You do know who he was, right?"

"Like I said, Screw you, Phil." Race laughed as he downed the last of his beer.

Setting the bottle down, Race stood and glanced at the clock on the wall. "What time is the concert?"

"Eight tonight." Phil replied. "I suggest we get changed and go get something to eat. I hope you brought a tie with you."

Race smirked, "Yeah, I did. You know that old lady also suggested I take a date."

"Good luck finding a date between now and then, Race." Phil said as he also stood. "Maybe you can go sweet talk one the ladies down in the lobby because I'm sure as hell not going as your date."

Laughing, Race said, "That wasn't what I meant."

"Good." Phil grinned and made a mocking gestured of wiping his forehead. "Now go get ready. I assume you want to take the lead on this one again as well, right?"

"Sure." Race replied.

"Alright, meet you downstairs in thirty minutes." Phil said.

"See you then." Race replied. Grabbing his jacket he headed for the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Race made his way, alone, into the Church of St. Martin in the Wall. A small structure, compared to some of the other churches and cathedrals within Old Town, it still attracted a number of tourists and music lovers each evening. Race adjusted his tie as he grabbed a pamphlet and found a vacant seat.

Acting as if he was interested in the brochure, Race scanned the crowd as more guests continued to filter into the makeshift music hall.

"Anything?" Corbin's voiced chirped in his ear.

Phil had taken up position outside the church. He was seated at an outdoor cafe, under one of the large portable heaters, sipping a beer. Race actually found himself a tad jealous of the other man, but he had agreed to taking the lead and he didn't mind enjoying a classical performance every now and again. _'Knuckle-dragging grunt my ass._ ' Race mused to himself.

"Nothing yet," Race started with a low whisper, "wait, stand by." His eyes fell upon an older man that matched the description of the disgraced scientist. Luckily the chatter of the guests still filled the room as they waited for the performance to start so no one took notice of Race.

Keeping his eyes on the man, he watched as the scientist glanced around, as if waiting for someone. "Target acquired." Race reported. Doctor Arman must have blended in with the crowd as they made their way into the church or he had entered from a different way, hence why Phil must have missed him.

"Excellent." Corbin said.

As a group of college aged kids made their way to their seats, Race looked down at this pamphlet once again, but kept Arman in sight out of the corner of his eye. As the older man looked around, Race noticed the scientist perk up suddenly. Race watched as an elegant and beautiful woman approached Arman and seductively hooked her arm under his. Her short dark hair accented her angular facial features perfectly and her deep green eyes shone with a look of mysterious intrigue. Race, along with Arman and a handful of the other male occupants in the room took notice of how her form fitting black dress, which obviously was not warm enough in the chilly autumn weather, but no one seemed to mind, enhanced her curves. Race felt his heart skip a beat as he took in the sight of the woman. As the newly formed couple made their way to two unoccupied seats, Race saw Arman whisper something to the woman, causing her to throw her head back in let out a playful laugh.

"Damn." Race breathed, causing a woman sitting in front of him to turn around and give him a sour look.

"What is it?" Corbin asked.

Having momentarily forgotten about the mic and that Phil could hear him, he shook his head at his stupidity. "Arman is here and he's in the company of one stunningly fine lady."

"What does she look like?" Corbin asked.

Race picked up on the concern of his partner's voice; it wasn't coached with the tone of typical male curiosity, but more of a request for a professional assessment. Thinking back to their earlier conversation, Race recalled the fact that Phil never did get to explaining who it was that he had thought he saw back at Wenceslas Square.

As the lights dimmed, Race whispered, "The performance is starting."

Corbin growled in his ear, "Damnit, Race." Then after a moment, "Just keep your eyes on those two. If they leave, follow them."

"Understood." Race whispered as the woman in front of him shushed him quiet.

Almost an hour later, Corbin had switched from beer to tea as he watched the front entrance of the Church of St. Martin in the Wall. Pulling at his collar, he readjusted the knot of his tie that was tucked under his sweater. He hadn't heard anything more from Race, but assumed the neither Doctor Arman nor his associate had left. Drumming his fingers on the table, he sighed and remained calm, reminding himself that in the grand scheme of things, this stakeout had been relatively short so far.

But Race's report about Arman's female companion had him on edge. Kicking himself inwardly about blowing off his early premonition, he could only hope that he was still in fact wrong about who he thought he saw. If it was her, an entirely new dynamic was just tossed into their laps.

As he sipped his tea, he saw a group of kids exit the church and move off to the side to light up some smokes. Taking a chance he raised his cup to his lips and said, "What's going on in there, Race?"

A few moments later, Race replied quietly, "It's ended. People are leaving."

"What about the targets?"

"Stand by." Race shot back.

Phil watched as some more people exited the church. Standing, he threw some money on the table and snatched his leather jacket from the back of his chair. Quickly, but not quick enough to raise suspicion, headed towards the church.

"They're splitting up." Race said. "Arman appears to be headed in your direction. I'll follow the woman."

Growling under his breath, Corbin replied, "Got it." Still on the opposite side of the street, Corbin watched as a few more people came outside to join the group of college kids, as others headed off in different directions. A moment later, Doctor Arman appeared. Corbin watched the man glance left and then right a number of times, then headed northeast down the sidewalk.

"I've got him," Phil reported. Staying on his side of the street, Phil tailed the Kazakhstani scientist.

Race lingered amongst the dwindling crowd and watched as the woman slipped through one of the side doors of the church. Counting silently to himself, Race waited the appropriate time to follow, then discreetly made his way through the same door as the mysterious woman. A short hallway let to another door that was just closing as Race entered the hall.

Quickening his pace, Race pushed through the door and found himself in the rear lot of the church. Voices drifted through the dark night from the front of the church, but as he traversed the deserted back lot, the voices grew fainter. Pulling his sidearm from his concealed holster, Race held the weapon low as he peered off into the darkness. The sound of hurried footsteps receding into the distance filled his ears and picking up his pace, he caught sight of the woman disappearing off to the right about fifty yards ahead of him.

Race took off after her, not wanting to lose the woman in the dark. If she was meeting with Arman on business, then she obviously knew something about what was going on and possibly Vostok's location.

Whispering into his mic, Race reported, "I see the woman. In pursuit behind the church."

Not waiting for a response, Race made his way towards where she had disappeared into the shadows. Slowing as he approached the blind turn, Race sucked in his breath. Raising his weapon, he stole a quick glance around the blind corner, but saw only darkness. Moving quickly, he kept his firearm level and moved around the corner.

As soon as he did, he heard a rush of air and a sharp pain snapped through his forearm. As an involuntary yelp escaped from his lips, Race dropped the handgun and staggered forward from the momentum of the blow.

"Race, what happened?" He heard immediately in his ear. But a moment later, he felt a solid whack to the side of his head. Grunting from the onslaught of the white-hot pain that shot through his skull, Race collapsed to the ground.

"Damnit, Race, answer me." He heard Corbin order, but the pain in his head was too great to illicit a response from Race.

Lying face down on the cold ground, Race heard the distinct clicks of the woman's high heels as she sauntered towards him from her concealed hiding spot. Bending at the knees, she lightly picked up Race's fallen sidearm.

"So you're one of the Americans, huh?" The woman purred as Race groaned. "I didn't realize Intelligence One Agents were so careless as to step right into an ambush."

Race felt a tapping on the side of his head and realized the woman was toying with him, tapping her retractable baton against his temple. "You are a handsome fellow, that's for sure." She smiled, "It's too bad I'll have to eventually get rid of you. I can't have you interfering in my affairs."

"Who...are..." Race tried to speak, but doing so made his head spin even more.

Jade laughed seductively at the wounded man's attempt to speak, "Oh, before this is over you will know exactly who I am."

Hearing the pounding of hurried footsteps approaching, Jade realized she was out of time; the other Intel man was on his way to help his fallen comrade. "But for now, I advise you to stay out of my way. That is if you know what's best for you." Laughing, Jade tossed Race's weapon to the ground and stepping backwards, she blended into the shadows of the abandoned alleyway and disappeared.

Rolling onto his back, Race shut his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he was lying there before Corbin arrived. As the other man came onto the scene, Race opened his eyes, but his vision was still fuzzy.

Corbin pulled his own pistol as he knelt next to Race, "What the hell happened, Race?"

"She...she jumped me." He managed to say.

"Damn," Corbin grumbled. "Just stay down for a minute." Standing back up Phil headed off into the darkened alley, but a few moments later, Race heard him return. "She's gone." Phil said as he holstered his weapon and slowly helped Race up into a seated position.

His head swam, but within a few moments, his equilibrium began to balance out. Putting his hand to his head, he felt his hair was sticky, a trail of blood running down from where the woman had smacked him with the baton.

"Can you walk?" Phil asked as he put a hand on Race's arm.

Race tried to nod, but the movement caused a wave of nausea rack his body. "Give me a minute."

Keeping his hands on Race to hold him steady, Phil asked, "How'd she get the jump on you?"

"Stupid mistake on my part." Race said after a few minutes.

Retrieving Race's weapon and handing it back to him, Phil said, "At least she was kind enough to leave this."

"Yeah, and not use it to put a bullet in my head."

"That too." Phil said as Race pushed himself to his feet. Keeping him steady, Phil watched for any sign of wavering in his friend's posture. "We should get back to the hotel."

"What about Arman?" Race asked.

"I had to pull off when I heard you through the mic. I had no idea what was happening to you."

"Great," Race cursed himself. "So now we've lost both our leads."

"For now, but don't worry, we'll pick them up again." Phil replied, but Race had the feeling the veteran agent was just being nice due to Race's current state. The reality was that because Race had acted foolishly, both Doctor Arman and his mysterious companion were able to escape.

Holstering his firearm, Race grumbled, "Let's just get the hell out of here, Phil." as his throbbing head and forearm became overshadowed by his own uncertainty.

Making their way back to the street, they headed off in the direction of the Ventana Hotel. The groups of tourists and evening goers took no notice of the two men, figuring Race's wobbly footsteps were more than likely caused by a quick night of drinking versus getting smacked in the head with a baton. As they waited to cross one of the streets, Race turned to his companion and said, "From the way you reacted earlier, I got the feeling you know that woman, Phil."

"Beautiful woman, with short dark hair and very provocative curves in all the right places?" Corbin asked with a sly smile on his face.

"Yeah, exactly." Race replied.

"Bannon, you just had your first encounter with the very cunning woman known as Jezebel Jade." Phil stated.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

Chapter 3

Grimacing, Race pressed the bag full of ice against the side of his head as he sat down on the couch in Corbin's suite. While the bleeding had stopped, the pain still throbbed and he could already feel a welt growing in the spot where the woman known as Jezebel Jade had cracked his skull.

Coming out of the kitchenette, Phil took a seat across the table from his partner. Setting down a handful of beer bottles, he grabbed one, popped it open and handed it to Race, then did the same for his own. Looking at Race's pained face, Phil took a swig of his beer. Shaking his head he couldn't prevent letting out a short laugh at Race's expense.

"I'm glad this amuses you." Race grumbled, taking a drink.

"I'm sorry," Phil snickered, "but I can't help it. Besides, you'll be fine. You're going to feel like you got hit by a semi-truck, but you'll be fine. At least she didn't break your arm."

Leaning back, Race closed his eyes momentarily. "Yeah, lucky for me."

Laughing Phil said, "Get over it, Bannon, you'll be fine. We'll get Doctor Arman and Jade. Don't worry about it."

Opening his eyes, Race peered back at his partner and realized while Phil seemed to know most of Race's past, Race knew next to nothing about Corbin's. "So how do you know this Jezebel Jade?" He decided to ask.

Phil shook his head as his eyes seemed to wander. "The first time I ran into that woman was in Korea, near the DMZ."

"Really?" Race was instantly intrigued. "Which side?"

"The safe side," Phil replied. "Shit, I wouldn't go into North Korea without a damn good reason and that woman is _not_ a damn good reason."

"What's her story?"

"She's a thief." Phil replied. "Granted, she'll tell you she's a _'collector of fine antiquities'_ or some bullshit like that, but at the end of the day she's just a thief. She'll steal and sell anything for the right price."

"Well she's probably the sexiest thief I've ever seen." Race quipped.

"That she is, but don't let her looks distract you," Phil offered. "As you're busy ogling over her _assets_ she'll snatch her prize right out from beneath you and leave you standing there like an idiot."

"You sound like you speak from experience, Phil?" Race poked.

"Screw you, Bannon." Phil laughed, "If you're implying that there was something between her and I, you're wrong. Granted, she is easy on the eyes, but my mission was a bit more important than my love life at the time."

"What happened?" Race asked.

Taking a long gulp from his bottle, Phil began to recount his tale. "North Korea had gotten its hands on a stolen Chinese warhead with potential nuclear capabilities. However, what it didn't have was the launch codes as they had been intercepted by South Korean military intelligence personnel. But in typical bureaucratic fuckery, the codes were then stolen from the South Koreans."

"By Jade?" Race asked, catching on.

Phil nodded, "My mission was to retrieve the stolen launch codes back from Jade in order to prevent them from getting across the DMZ into North Korea. I knew Jade had them and was going to take them to the DMZ and sell to her contact across the border."

Race shook his head, "So she was just going to sell the codes back to the North Koreans? Regardless of the implications of what could have resulted if they had launched a nuke?"

Sneering, Phil replied, "Jade doesn't give a damn about any of that. Like I said, she's a thief. She cares about money, that's it."

"Isn't that kind of harsh?" Race asked.

Phil eyed him for a few moments. "Am I hearing this right? Are you actually defending her? The woman attacked you in a darkened alley, Race. She could have killed you and you're damn lucky she decided to just toy with you instead. Jade is not the type of person that I would align myself with, pal."

Looking away, Race nodded. Corbin was right, but there was something about the woman that made Race think twice. Phil's statement was spot on, Jade could have killed him, but she hadn't and Race wanted to know why.

Getting back to the subject, Race prodded, "So what happened? Did you retrieve the codes?"

Phil sighed before downing the last of his beer, "Actually, no I didn't. I may not be a fan of Jade, but I respect her abilities. Every time I got close, she managed to give me the slip. It's like she knew what my next move was going to be and altered her plans accordingly. I chased that crazy bitch from Yongsan all the way to the DMZ, but she made it to the border before I could arrest her."

"Why didn't you go after her?" Race inquired as he popped open another beer.

"Are you nuts?" Phil snorted a laugh. "I didn't have clearance to cross the DMZ."

"So Intelligence One was willing to let the codes fall back into the hands of the North Koreans?"

"I guess they assumed I would have made the arrest." Phil replied. "But either way, I-1 wasn't going to let me cross the DMZ due to the international ramifications that could have arisen if I had been captured. If I couldn't retrieve the codes in the South, the contingency plan was to shoot down the missile from a battleship that was underway in the region in the event there was a launch. A risky move, as the air defense capabilities at the time had a pretty high margin of error when attempting to shoot down a SAM armed with a nuclear warhead."

"I never heard about a launch." Race threw in once he saw that Phil wasn't going to say any more at the moment.

Shaking his head Phil said, "You know, that's the part I never figured out. Nothing ever happened. No launch, no threats, no intercepted communications about the codes, potential launch, or the warhead. It's like Jade got across the border and just disappeared, along with the launch codes."

"Lucky for you," Race added. "Lucky for all of us really."

"No shit," Phil said. "My career could have been ruined, but more importantly if the North Koreans launched their stolen warhead there probably would have been war. Eventually we found out the warhead was 'reacquired' by the Chinese military and disassembled." Pausing for a moment he then added, "So Jade got the best of you tonight. Just like she outsmarted me years ago. Don't underestimate that woman and don't for one minute trust her either. The only person she cares about is herself."

Shaking his head, Race smiled. He was impressed, by both his new partner and the mysterious woman that had gotten the best of both men. "So, what's she doing here?"

"If she's meeting with Doctor Arman then she's probably trying to either steal some of his renaissance pieces or she's here for the same thing we are, the biological agents."

"You think she's working for Vostok?" Race wondered.

"I doubt it," Phil said. "Vostok isn't the type to hire outside help."

"So she's working for someone else that could possibly be interested in Arman's work."

"Or she's freelancing," Phil suggested, but he wasn't convinced that was the case. "but we need to concentrate on Arman and Vostok first. Jade is a nuisance, but if she gets in the way, she can cause some serious trouble."

Race titled his head and laughed, "Got it, boss." Feeling the ice beginning to melt, Race finished the last of his beer and stood. "I think I'll get some sleep."

"Good idea," Phil stood. Going to his suitcase he rummaged through the bag, grabbed a bottle of extra strength painkillers, and tossed it to Race. "Take some of these. You'll already feel like you're hung over when you wake up, but these should help. Take them again in the morning."

"Thanks, Phil." Race said as he waved the bottle at the man.

"We head out early in the morning. We'll head out to the Charles Bridge first to for a contact meet, then to the Prague Castle. Meet me in the lobby, ready to go, at six."

"Damn, why so early?" Race asked as he looked at the clock, it was already closing in on midnight.

"You want to be in the field, get used to it." Phil grinned.

Shaking his head, Race replied, "Got it, partner." Then headed for his own room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jade whistled appreciatively as Doctor Askar Arman showed off his collection of renaissance period art. After having shaken the Intelligence One Agents, Jade had headed back to her own hotel and contacted Arman to express her desire to meet again.

The Kazakhstani scientist actually repulsed her, but Jade knew how to work her angle with the man and he had been more than willing to accommodate a last minute visit to his Prague loft, even at three in the morning.

"You have quite the collection here, Askar." Jade breathed.

"Thank you, Miss Jade." The man replied. His voice grated on Jade's nerves. "I've heard that you are quite the collector yourself."

"I dabble." She smiled as her eyes fell upon a collection of miniature portraits from the early period of the renaissance. Walking over the display of at least twenty of the small paintings, Jade said, "These are quite lovely."

"Those are not the only things here that are quite lovely." Askar's words dripping from his tongue like slime.

Jade cringed at the subtle statement. She needed to find what she was looking for and get out. Spending any longer in the presence of the disgusting man than was necessary was not part of Jade's plan.

"I've heard you have a collection of much finer pieces as well." Jade purred as she turned to face her mark. She attempted to mask her frown when she saw the wanting desire in the man's eyes.

"I'd be happy to show you." Askar said.

Jade let the man take her by the arm as he led her towards his private office. She took comfort in the small concealed blade that was tucked safely away on her person.

As they entered Doctor Arman's office, Jade ensured she showed a vested interest in the collection of Italian and French paintings that adorned the wall. "These are some very valuable works, Askar," Jade stated as she watched the man close the door from her peripheral vision. "I'm very impressed."

Casually strolling around to the man's desk, she observed the small safe tucked away into the wall near the floor; Askar's attempts to conceal the compartment were amateur at best, not to mention he was making it easy for her; the safe was open.

"What else would you like to see, Miss Jade?"

Jade smiled seductively at the man as she placed her hands on the edge of the sturdy oak desk and leaned forward, giving the old scientist a pleasant view. As his eyes locked onto her chest, Jade's eyes drifted towards the documents that were strewn about the desk. Her gaze drifted across a number of letters that appeared to be written in Russian. Intrigued by the letters, she looked back at Askar and saw the man was still staring at her breasts. _'Some men are so easily distracted.'_ Jade mused to herself.

"Perhaps a drink first?" Jade suggested, bringing Askar's attention back to her eyes as she shot him one of her most seductive smiles.

"Of course," Askar stammered, knowing he had just been caught glaring.

"Some wine?" Jade suggested as she moved to sit on the edge of the desk, crossing her legs in a very deliberate fashion. "I'll wait here and get...comfortable."

Askar nodded quickly, "I'll only be a moment." He grinned as he headed from the room.

"As will I." Jade sneered after the man left.

As soon as the door closed, Jade moved back behind the desk to the safe. Kneeling down she pulled the door open the rest of the way, immediately finding the small velvet satchel. Opening it, her eyes shone as the tiny jewels sparkled against the low light. Closing the bag with the little ropes, she quickly tucked her stolen wares into her purse. Standing she moved to the window behind the desk, opened the panes, then removed her heels. Just before she was about to climb onto the ledge into Prague's darkened, foggy pre-dawn hours her eyes fell upon the letters on the desk once again.

Thinking they could be of value, she snatched the handful of documents from the desk and stowed them away in her purse.

Before Doctor Askar Arman returned, Jade was out the window, on the ledge, down the rain gutter, and disappearing into the fog before the Kazakhstani even knew he had been played.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pulling himself out of bed, a dull pounding served to bring Race back to the real world. He had only managed to sleep for a few hours before having to wake up and be ready for the day's events. Grumbling to himself about his current partner's insistence at such an early start, Race dragged his aching body towards the bathroom in order to prepare for the day.

Thirty minutes and two painkillers later, Race entered the nearly deserted hotel lobby. A small gaggle of college-aged students lingered in the far corner, but soon moved off towards the doors, heading out to enjoy the city's early morning ambience.

Taking a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs, Race saw Corbin leaning against the check-in counter, speaking in a low voice to the woman that stood behind it. A pretty young woman, her curly auburn hair and light brown eyes complimented her strong, European cheekbone structure. Race watched as Phil said something, causing the woman to smile, giggle softly, then cover her mouth with her hands. Smiling back at the woman, Corbin nodded as he met Race's questioning gaze.

Phil said something to the woman again, who once against responded with a bashful giggle before brushing her hand lightly over the agent's forearm. He smiled at the young lady one last time before striding over to Race. Standing up as he approached, Race saw Corbin appeared surprisingly well rested for someone that had to be fighting off the affects of jetlag just as Race was.

"You ready to go?" Phil asked as he reached Race's side.

Nodding Race said, "Yeah." Then jerked his head back towards the woman at the counter, who had returned to her tasks. "What was that all about?"

Phil winked, "Gathering intel."

"Is that what you call it?"

Phil guffed curtly as he rolled his eyes.

Race laughed. "I thought you were all business, Corbin. All business all the time."

"Then you don't know me very well, Race." Phil said as the two men headed for the door. "But in all seriousness, you know that getting in good with the locals is the best way to gather any information that could be pertinent to our situation. If something is strange or out of the ordinary, the local populace will know about it before we do. Even in a tourist hub like Old Town."

Race nodded as they emerged on the street, heading for the cafe at the corner before making their way towards the Charles Bridge. The chill that accompanied the pre-dawn fog gave Race a shudder as the quietness of the early morning settled over him with a sense of both calm and apprehension.

"So what's the plan?" Race asked. He kept his voice low, as if the need to whisper was imperative due to the hazy mist that surrounded them.

"Like I said last night," Phil replied. "We head to the Charles Bridge. After that, depending on what information, if any, we receive, we reassess from there."

"We still need to check out the Garrison."

Phil nodded as they made their way into the cafe, which even in the early morning hours, had quite a number of patrons already in line to purchase their morning brews. "We will." Phil replied as they got in line.

The duo ordered, received their coffees, then proceeded back out and on foot towards the bridge before Race continued, "If Vostok gets his hands on those components, I think we might have an even bigger problem on our hands, Phil."

Phil shot the other man a quizzical look then asked, "What do you mean?"

"I think Vostok might have bigger plans than just setting off a dirty bomb on a mass transit system."

"Perhaps we need to bring Doctor Arman in when we catch up with him again." Phil suggested. "If Vostok is here already then we'll get him. It sounds like we can't take the chance of an exchange between Arman and Vostok anymore."

Silence settled back over two agents as they traversed the last few blocks to the bridge, the echoes of their footfalls off of the cobblestone streets, combined with the thick, hanging fog, created an eerie sensation that made Race instinctively hover his hand close to his concealed sidearm.

Stepping on to the bridge, Phil nodded his head towards Race, who moved away from his partner, heading towards the mist-cloaked far end of the structure. Even as he slowly moved ahead of Phil, Race kept his senses sharpened to the veteran's movements behind him, ready to react if Corbin needed his assistance.

Keeping pace a number of steps behind Race, Phil veered towards the eastern side of the bridge and the only other visible occupant. An old man, dressed in a shabby overcoat, a grey knit hat, and fingerless gloves peacefully fed a half dozen or so pigeons that cooed with needful anticipation as the elderly gentleman tossed handfuls of seed upon the cold, damp stones.

"Good morning." Phil said to the man as he saw Race leaning against the western side of the bridge, about twenty feet north of Phil and the birdman.

The man raised his head and peered at the dark-haired American with a look of a man who was more than a down-on-his-luck elderly bird lover. "That it is. A little early for a young man such as yourself though."

Phil gave the man a short smile, "I've always been an earlier riser. With such pre-dawn peacefulness as this, it helps one forget, even if only for a few moments, of all the terribleness that plagues our planet."

"Terribleness brought about by terrible men." The man spat.

Phil nodded as he sipped his coffee. "Do you know anything about men like that?"

The man tossed another handful of seed to the fat pigeons before responding. "Only that there are a number of men like that here in my beautiful city."

"Do you know where?"

"I do not," He replied with a shake of his head. "Only that they are close, but there are not many places within Praha that could conceal their preparations for their supposedly dastardly deeds."

Phil placed a hand upon the man's shoulder, "If you can find out where they could be operating,"

The old man nodded before Phil could finish his sentence. "Of course. I'll reinitiate contact once I gather some more definitive facts."

"Thank you."

"I need more birdseed." The man grumbled as he tossed the last handful to the winged inhabitants of the Charles Bridge.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Phil withdrew a few Czech Koruns and placed them in the man's palm. Concealed between the folded-up bills was a small, disposable cell phone. "For your pigeons, my friend."

The man nodded before turning away and shuffling off into the fog.

Race came up next Phil as the older agent watched the old contact vanish into the haze.

"Anything?"

Phil shook his head, "Not much, except that Vostok is definitely here, but he's more than likely operating outside of the city at the moment. Pavel will find out where and let us know."

"Another old man, huh?" Race joked.

Corbin gave Race a strange look then said, "No one is going to suspect an elderly man that's feeding pigeons at six in the morning is a spy."

"Gotcha ya." Race said, deciding to drop the subject. Even though they had only been partners for a little over two days, Race sometimes got the impression that Corbin was sizing him up, but for what reason Race could not figure out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Prior to her late night excursion to Doctor Arman's loft, Jade had checked in to a new hotel, one where neither her employer nor her mark knew to look for her. The Aria Hotel was a luxurious establishment, one that Jade felt right at home in.

Having made her way swiftly to her room, Jade exhaled thankfully that she had made it back without being spotted. Clicking on the light upon the small desk in the corner of the room, Jade retrieved the small velvet satchel from her purse. Covering the desk with a small, soft cloth she gently spilled the contents of the bag out onto the desk.

The fistful of assorted jewels sparkled with an array of glimmering, shifting colors against the lighting of the desk. Jade's eyes grew wide with desire as she gazed upon jewels spilling out before her. As she emptied the remainder of the contents out, her face scrunched up with confusion as a black, cylindrical tube rolled out of the bottom of the bag and landed upon the cloth with a gentle thud.

"What the hell?" Jade mumbled as she cautiously picked up the strange device, the end of which was secured tightly with a black rubber stopper.

As she rolled the tube between her delicate fingers, her thoughts drifted to the man that she had just stolen from. "Holy shit," Jade breathed as she quickly, but carefully placed the tube down.

Grabbing her purse, she pulled out the documents she had taken from Doctor Arman's desk. The documents were all in Russian, but as her eyes moved back and forth between the black tube and its unknown contents and the documents she clutched in her hand, Jade began to comprehend that her current situation had just gotten much, much worse.

Grumbling as she scrolled through her options in her head she rolled her eyes and sighed heavily at her new predicament. "Goddamnit, Jade." She mumbled aloud.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**

 **A/N: Not to insult anyone's intelligence, but for those that may not know, DMZ stands for Demilitarized Zone. It's the area between North and South Korea.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

Chapter 4

Doctor Askar Arman poorly attempted to hide his anxiety as he stood nervously before General Vostok. Of course, Askar had not planned that on his first face to face meeting with the General himself being when that he'd be reporting such a significant loss to his potential buyer. Askar's eyes darted back and forth as he watched Vostok silently pacing back and forth, his leather boots making a distinct thud against the hardwood floors of Askar's spacious loft. Two of Vostok's men flanked Askar, effectively preventing the disgraced scientist from making any attempt to escape.

"So, Doctor," Vostok gave the weary man a hard look as he continued to pace threateningly in front of Askar. "You say you've lost the sample?"

Askar gulped, unnerved by the subtle implication of Vostok's tone. "Not lost, it was stolen."

"How did a thief manage to steal it then?" Vostok grilled. He had stopped pacing and now stood directly in front of Askar.

"I..well..." Askar stuttered.

"Spit it out." Colonel Yasimov barked from behind Vostok.

"It was a woman," Askar blurted out.

"A woman?" Vostok sneered. "You let a woman get the better of you? No wonder your people were never as strong as us."

Askar took the insult in stride, unwilling and unable to defy Vostok, even at the expense of his dignity and pride. "She was quite cunning, Vostok." Askar threw out. "But,"

"But what?" Vostok asked.

"I do not think she was after the sample. You see, I had it hidden in a small satchel and it is that satchel that she took." He purposefully left out the main contents of the satchel.

"What about the papers?" Yasimov inquired.

"She took those as well." Askar mumbled.

"So this woman not only has the sample, but also the documents pertaining to their development and use." Vostok tapped his booted foot upon the floor as he spoke.

"Without the components there is nothing she can do," Askar added, attempting to not only redeem himself, but knowing that if he didn't express his continued usefulness then he might not make it out of his current situation alive. "The sample is too small by itself to be on any value to anyone else." However, Askar knew the last sentence was a lie.

"Can you reproduce it?"

Askar nodded vigorously at the question, "Yes, yes I can. I will need to gather some more materials, but I can create another."

Vostok pondered the situation for the moment, then replied. "Do not make another sample, Doctor. I want the completed product. Your blunder has thrown our timetable for a loop, so we will need to act sooner than anticipated."

Askar lowered his head, "I understand."

"Begin immediately, Doctor. One of my men will stay with you to ensure you remain...focused."

"I will not fail, Vostok."

A humorless grin spread across the bald Russian's face, "No, Doctor. You will not."

Turning on his heel, Vostok left the threat hanging as he departed the scientist's presence.

Minutes later, Vostok emerged on to the street as the brisk late morning air brushed along his pate. Yasimov came up to his superior's side and asked, "Can he be trusted?"

"He will do as instructed." Vostok replied. "Once he completes the formula he will be of no further use. He let a woman get the best of him. I cannot accept such incompetency amongst my followers."

Yasimov nodded, "Understood, General. What about the woman? If she knows what she has,"

"Get as much information on this woman from Askar as you can," Vostok instructed, "Then fine her, retrieve what she has stolen from me and eliminate her."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As late afternoon rolled in, Race found himself meandering about near the first courtyard of the Prague Castle. Having witnessed the changing of the guard earlier, Race took the rest of the day as an opportunity to walk about the castle's grounds, observing the groups of tourists that visited the infamous fortress, keeping a lookout for any person that appeared overly interested in either the guards or the actual Garrison entry points which were located deep within the castle grounds.

Watching as the sun began its decent beyond the wall, Race made his way back towards the main gates of the grounds, heading towards the point where he and Phil had planned to meet back up at the pre-arranged time. Earlier, Agent Corbin had headed off in the direction of the small barracks buildings, located off in the distance, a ways away, but still within visual range, from the busy and bustling scene of the Prague Castle.

Waiting just outside the gates, beyond the posted guards, Race glanced about at the dwindling crowd. A determined conviction flowed through Race as he scanned the faces of the innocents. It angered him that people like Vostok would never think twice about inflicting death and suffering upon people such as these, harmless people that were nothing except collateral damage to men like Vostok.

Minutes ticked away as Race's mind wandered before he caught a glimpse of his partner approaching. Standing Race moved to meet the man in stride, "You find anything?" Race asked as he came up next to Corbin.

Turning to walk away from the Castle, Phil reported, "Some good spots for cover and concealment. We should be able to keep both locations under observation from one centralized point. The barracks aren't very well guarded either, only a pair of guards at the main gate guard-shack."

"Which is where they'll stay if it rains tonight like it's supposed to." Race threw in. "Giving Vostok a perfect opportunity to move in and strike."

Phil nodded his agreement to the other man. "I'm hungry. You want to get something to eat before heading back to the hotel? It could end up being a long night."

"Yeah, let's go." Race grinned, realizing as well just how hungry he was, even with the built up anticipation of the evening's stakeout.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jade continued to glance over her shoulder as she made her way down the crowded streets, heading for a meet with one of her local contacts. Ever since she had discovered the black vial amongst the stolen jewels, she could not shake the feelings of being followed and watched.

She didn't want to risk opening the tube, but needed to know exactly what was inside of it in order to determine her next course of action.

In full stride, Jade gracefully edged her way off of the main road and down a side alleyway off of the main square. She was in the more modern district of Prague, with high end shopping that appealed to the locals more so rather than the tourists. At the end of the alleyway, she found the stairwell her contact had directed her to and descended. Wrapping her fist against the door four times she waited and moments later the door opened for her. Moving quickly, Jade was met by a young Czech man with long dark hair and arms covered in tattoos. He didn't say anything to her, only nodded his head down the hall before closing the door and falling in step behind the mysterious woman.

The hallway ended with another door and pushing her way through it her nostrils were assaulted with the reeking odors of marijuana, ink, blood, cigarettes, and booze. Loud, but somewhat muffled heavy metal music pounded through the walls and a closed door that was off to the left of the back of the room. She was inside an underground tattoo parlor and before her sat her contact who was currently aiding more body-art to a twenty-something blonde girl's shoulder. He was a wiry young man, no older than twenty-five, with short close cropped hair, dark rimmed glasses, and a body covered in artwork. He was currently shirtless and had a cigarette burning in an ashtray at his side.

"What do you want?" The artist asks without looking up from his work.

"I need your help identifying something for me." Jade replied smoothly.

Setting the needle down the man dabbed at the girl's skin with a sterile cloth. . Swiveling in his chair, snapped his gloves off, grabbed his cigarette and took a drag from his smoke. "What is in it for me?"

"The usual fee, Gregor." Jade replied with a sly smile.

"Hmph." Gregor grumbled, but then waved her forward. "Let me see it."

Jade stepped forward and withdrew the black tube from her purse. As soon as his eyes fell upon the tube in her hand, Gregor shot up from his stool and backed off, hands raised. "What the hell is that?"

Caught off guard by the man's strange reaction, Jade explained. "I found it hidden amongst some other...items I just received."

"Get it out of here." Gregor pointed at the door.

"What's the problem?" Jade asked.

"You bring a blacked out test tube into my shop and ask me what the problem is? I have no idea what's inside that thing. From whom did you acquire this vial?"

Jade figured it was time to give up at least some information in order to secure Gregor's aid. "An ex-Kazakhstani scientist that is working with some bad people."

"What kind of scientist?" Concern evident in the Czech man's tone.

"The bad kind. I think whatever is in this tube could be extremely dangerous."

Gregor eyed Jade suspiciously for a long moment, before relaxing just a tad. "I can't help you, not here. But if whatever is in that tube is dangerous, as you say, what do you plan to do with it?"

"I know some men that can help." Jade offered. "I think they are here looking for this or at least for the man that made it."

Gregor's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"Two American Intelligence Agents that are here in your city right now." Jade replied. "I just hope they'd be willing to listen."

"Americans are stubborn, but they are our allies. Why wouldn't they listen?" Gregor offered.

Jade smiled sheepishly as she shrugged and put the vial back in her purse. "Well, I did steal from one of them a few years ago. And the other, well, I kind of almost killed him the other night."

Gregor rolled his eyes as he lit another cigarette and laughed. "Typical Jade."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Perhaps we were wrong about Vostok's plan to steal the rest of his bomb making components from the Garrison." Phil stated in a hushed tone.

He and Race had been lying in wait, concealed within a cusp of trees that gave them a view of both the barracks and the Prague Castle. As the evening hours dwindled away into the early morning hours of the following day, the darkness and the cold crept over both men as they conducted the stakeout diligently throughout the night until dawn as planned. As if the circumstances surrounding their mission weren't dismal enough, approximately forty-five minutes ago, the weather had taken a turn for the worse and it had begun to rain. As the minutes crept by, the rain steadily increased and the two men found themselves lying on the cold, wet ground and getting thoroughly soaked in the process.

Race shook his head. He was convinced that if Vostok was going to set off a biological device that the components he needed to hardwire the conventional device with the biological agent's delivery system could be obtained at the Garrison from its Explosive Ordnance Disposal Team that protected Prague's seat of Governmental power. "No, he has to come here. Without the remaining components from the list, Vostok won't be able to create a dirty bomb."

"I see." Phil mumbled as he turned his attention back to scanning the grounds between the facilities through a pair of night-vision binoculars.

After dinner, Race had returned to his hotel room to conduct some follow-up research on his new partner, since it appeared that Phil was not the type of man to offer up information about himself on his own. Race knew and appreciated Phil's willingness to follow Race's lead in regards to the explosives which Race had learned was due to Phil's own appreciation of Race's superior knowledge in the area.

Searching the I-1 databanks, Race had learned that Phil's expertise fell within the human intelligence realm versus the hands-on combat scenarios that Race was accustomed to. Corbin had been recruited by Intelligence One from the US Army only a few years after the man had graduated from The United States Military Academy. While Race couldn't access the details, from what he had learned it appeared that one mission in particular that Phil had been assigned had caught the attention of the secretive intelligence organization and its offer was enough to convince both the man and the Army to release him from his obligation and transfer over to the Justice Department and Intelligence One. Race definitely planned on trying to find out exactly what had happened on that particular mission, but for now Race was happy with the pairing. He only wished that Phil was a bit more forthcoming with information. If Race hadn't of prodded the veteran agent about Jade, he doubted Phil would have mentioned her at all. At least, not until he felt it was relevant data.

As silence settled over the duo once again, Race gritted his teeth while mentally pushing the thoughts of how cold he felt from him mind, a technique he had learned during his days with the SEALs. Knowing that the hour had to be close to two in the morning, Race continued to scan the area when suddenly he heard a low rumbling off in the distance. "You hear that?" He whispered to his companion. "Sounds like a truck."

"Be ready." Phil nodded. "It looks like you may have been right, Bannon."

Race watched as a half a dozen figures emerged from the murky darkness, headed for the barracks. They moved with a stealth that told Race these men were no hired goons; they moved in concert with each other like professional soldiers.

As the group passed in the night, Phil motioned silently for Race to move, their plan being to encircle the group and cut them off from escape. Even with Race's assessment that their adversaries were trained professionals, the two I-1 agents would still have the element of surprise on their side. _'And we're pretty well trained too_. _'_ Race mused to himself as he moved through the trees and began to circle outwards, keeping the barracks in sight and the castle to his rear.

Moving through the blackness, Race made his way quickly, but silently to the next point, crouched, then waited until he saw Phil moving. Moving in tandem as such, the pair closed the distance and made their way closer and closer to the six black clad figures. Once Phil rejoined Race at his side, they both withdrew their standard issue sidearms, the Sig Sauer P220 Combat TB, and prepared to move in on the men before they could breach the barracks' walls. Race moved to stand, but froze as he heard another rumbling that was moving towards the other men. Phil grabbed Race's arm and pulled him back down then pointed towards an approaching Jeep.

The Jeep's headlights were off, but as it drew closer they could tell even through the distortion created by the rain, it was an old-style military vehicle with a canvas roof. As it came to a stop, the passenger door opened and a large, bald man dressed in a Soviet style Army uniform stepped out, followed by another similarly dressed man.

"Vostok." Phil breathed, his dislike for the Russian apparent to Race.

"Let's take him now." Race suggested.

"Wait," Phil stated, realizing the odds were quickly swaying in favor of their enemy.

Race frowned. Keeping his hands wrapped tightly around his pistol, he said, "I'm going to see if I can move closer; hear what that bastard is saying."

Nodding apprehensively, Phil stayed low and kept his weapon in his hands, ready if needed. "Be careful."

Race attempted to slink forward with as much stealth as possible. As he approached, he began to make out the conversation that was currently taking place between Vostok and the other Soviet Officer, the only problem for Race was that the conversation was currently taking place in Russian.

Grunting under his breath, Race continued to make his way closer, intent on catching the men off guard in order to move in for a quick arrest on at least Vostok; the others did not matter as much to Intelligence One; Vostok was the primary target.

Heading for the next collection of bushes, flanked by a cold steel and wooden bench, Race kept his pace even and quiet, yet before he could reach the coveted concealment, one of Vostok's men happened to glance directly in Race's direction.

"Hey!" The man shouted and pointed through the dark, the moon giving off just enough illumination to create a silhouette of the I-1 agent. "Over there."

"Get him." Vostok shouted causing the rainy night to erupt in a chorus of angered and startled shouts accompanied by the distinct sounds of weapons being loaded and charged.

"Shit." Only a few strides from the bench Race dove, sliding face first across the slick, wet grass just moments before a hail of gunfire exploded.

"Damnit, Bannon." Corbin voiced cracked in Race's ear. Ignoring his superior, Race crouched behind the bench, took up a position, and fired back at Vostok and his men.

"Move back." Corbin ordered. "There's too many of them."

Ducking to avoid the next onslaught of firepower, Race peered through the darkness, watching the black clad figures moving in his direction, working together to flank around and cut him off.

"They're circling around." Race stated, wondering what Corbin was doing. Turning to look back in the direction of the other I-1 agent, Race saw his partner was moving in a crouched position around the edge of his concealed position in order to peer out at their attackers. Race suddenly realized that Vostok and his men had no idea about the presence of the other agent. "I'll try to draw them off towards the stairs."

"Be quick about it, Race." Corbin replied. "The gunfire is going to draw the cops and the Garrison out."

Wiping a splatter of rainwater from his forehead, Race stole a quick glance over his shoulder, quickly judging the distance between his current spot and the top of the stairs that led down from the Castle to the road. Conducting a rapid ammo check, Race waited for a brief lull from their attackers, then popped up and fired.

At least one round found its mark, as the sounds of the down pouring rain were punctured by a pained yelp and shouts for assistance in the attackers' native tongue.

"Fools!" Vostok barked as he watched the white-haired man fire, then turn and run. "After him." Not having any idea who had been lying in wait or how the man had known of Vostok's intended target, he grumbled with anger as his remaining men broke off from helping their fallen comrade to pursue their prey.

"General, the Garrison." Yasimov started.

"Damn that man, whoever he is. Do not let him escape." Vostok growled.

Pulling his own pistol from its holster upon his hip, the Colonel grinned as he charged the weapon, chambering a round. "Yes, General."

As the two Russians stepped forward they were cut off by another burst of gunfire, but not from the white-haired man, instead the gunshots had come from their right. Dropping to the ground, Vostok sneered, "He's not alone."

"Who are they?" Yasimov asked as he kept his head down and watched their new foe emerge from behind a cusp of trees and run off in the direction of his comrade.

"Probably Americans." Vostok concluded, "But no matter. They are dead men now."

Scrambling to his knees, Yasimov took aim at the new man and fired.

Caught out in the open, Corbin dove as a hail of bullets impacted into the wet grass just inches from his feet. Hitting the ground hard, he exhaled sharply as he rolled to avoid the bullets.

"We cannot allow them to escape, Nikolai," Vostok threatened as he got to his feet and headed for the Jeep. "Come. We need to cut them off down below."

Frowning, stomach flat against the ground, Phil used to elbows and knees to scrambled through the rain and muddy grass, trying to find a spot where he could take a breather and reload. "Race, where are you?"

"At the stairs." Race responded almost immediately. "I managed to take out another of those Russian bastards."

"This isn't a competition, hotshot." Corbin laughed.

"Hell yes it is." Race replied.

Race bounded towards the top of the massive stairs. Over two hundred steps awaited the agent, but Race knew that going down was going to be a lot easier than going up, but he still had to remain cautious thanks to the rain and the remaining thugs.

Race headed down the steps with a quickness. A short distance behind him, the remaining Russian soldiers continue to chase him down. They fired in short rapid bursts as they moved together, providing covering fire for one another as they ran the American to ground. Race snorted as he turned and fired back, the gunshots ringing out to the point that Race was surprised that the entire Prague police force had not yet made it to the scene.

As the Russians took up positions at the top of the stairs, Race tucked himself into a corner of the wall in an attempt to make as small a target as possible for his adversaries. "Where are you?" Race asked into his mic.

"On my way." Corbin's reply was almost immediate.

Reloading, Race leaned out and blasted a succession of rounds up the stairs. Another wounded cry sliced through the cold, damp air. Capitalizing on the stunned state of his enemies, Race leaned out further from his concealment, fired, and began once again to head down the stairs. A short burst of gunfire rang forth as Race took a couple of steps. A sharp retort, a crack against the wall, and suddenly Race was smacked with a burning sensation in the side of his gut.

Staggering, he lost his footing. Collapsing, his knees impacted painfully with the smooth, slick steps. "Not good." He growled as his free hand pressed against his side, just beneath is flak vest. "Where the fuck are you, Corbin?" He asked through gritted teeth as he attempted to stand, but only managed to slide further down the steps.

Seeing the state of their prey, two of the Russian troops moved forward as the others decided to quickly head down the side of the hill towards the street in an attempt to surround Race as he remained trapped halfway down the stairs.

More gunshots filled the night, stopping the Russians on the steps in their tracks and causing them to duck for cover. Vaulting himself over the low wall, half way between the Russians and his partner, Corbin landed on the wet stairs, bracing himself from losing his footing on the slippery stone. Firing blindly upwards for cover, he moved down the stairs towards Race, who was ungracefully trying to stand, as he also tried to stem the bleeding from his gunshot wound, blood seeping forth between his wet fingers.

Coming up next to his partner, Phil grabbed Race by the arm to steady him while also pulling him to his feet. "How'd you manage to get shot?" He joked as Race braced himself against his partner before the two men headed down the stairs.

"Russian bastards." Race grumbled. "I think it's a ricocheted shot."

"Russian bastards that are still after us." Phil said. Race didn't like the tone in the man's voice. They both knew that they were still outnumbered and that Vostok's men were currently working to surround them.

Turning to fire back at the thugs above them every now and then, the two I-1 agents made their way down towards the street with the hopes to disappear down one of any number of dark alleyways before the Russians could close in on them.

Fatigue quickly setting in due to the bullet wound, Race struggled to stay on his feet, even with the assistance of Phil, but he could tell that supporting his larger, heavier frame was also taking its toll on Corbin.

"Where's Vostok?" Race managed to ask after another round of back and forth gunfire exchange.

"I don't know." Phil replied.

The pair was about twenty steps from the street when they once again heard the angered shouts of the Russians. "Where the hell are the cops?" Race asked, his breathing becoming labored.

"Stop talking." Phil said. "Besides, we need to get out of here before the cops arrive."

Race mumbled under his breath. Traversing the last step, the two agents turned and saw two of the Russians heading down the street towards them. The thugs had quickly made their way down the side of the steep hill and were now only about twenty yards from the agents. The men from atop the stairs were also quickly closing the gap, tightening the figurative noose around the necks of the I-1 men.

Raising his pistol, Phil fired at the duo on the street, hitting one as the other dove for cover. Off in the distance, they could hear the rumbling of the Jeep from atop the hill. No doubt, Vostok and his crony had headed down to the street in an attempt to cut them off.

"Come on, Bannon," Phil grunted as they made their way towards the closest alleyway. "This way."

Reaching the dark corner unmolested, Phil set Race down upon the rain drenched ground as a insulting stench wafted out from the unseen end of their backstreet hideaway. Kneeling down in front of his companion, Phil pulled Race's shirt up, revealing a single gunshot wound to the man's lower torso.

"Damnit." Phil grumbled as he reached around to quickly feel Race's back, somewhat relieved, but also dismayed that he couldn't locate an exit wound; the bullet was still inside Race somewhere.

"You have to leave me." Race stated between short gasps.

The shouts of their pursuers were once again drawing near.

"Not happening, Bannon." Phil said as he continued to crouch in front of his friend, his Sig Sauer held firmly in both hands. Peering around the corner, what he saw did not give him hope; the Russians were slowly closing in on their position.

"Both of us being dead won't do anyone any good, Phil." Race countered.

"Would you shut up." Phil grumbled, refusing to leave his friend, regardless of the consequences.

"No more running, you American pigs." Vostok bellowed as he strode purposefully down the deserted street, ignoring the wail of the closing sirens and the distant, confused voices of the Castle soldiers that were still atop the hill. "Come out now and I promise to kill you quickly. Unless of course I decide to use you as my test run subjects." Vostok laughed viciously as he threw out the last part.

"Why do these bad guys always have to make such ridiculous proclamations?" Phil mumbled. Race watched through hazy eyes as Corbin steadied his breathing and tighten his grip on his weapon.

Knowing what his partner was planning, Race coiled his hands on his own pistol as he looked at Phil and said, "Well, I guess we go out together then."

Giving the white-haired agent a smirk, Phil said, "Let's take as many of these assholes with us as possible, pal."

"I grow tired of this pathetic chase." Vostok was lauding as the two agents prepared to make their final stand.

As they prepared to spring their attack, the screaming of an engine being pushed to its max, could be heard speeding down the road.

"Look out!" One of the Russians shouted.

A white van shot down the narrow road and came to a slamming halt almost directly in front of the entrance to the alleyway. The side panel door slid open and a young, tattooed man with long black hair, a black metal band t-shirt, and ripped jeans jumped out, semi-automatic rifle in hand, and fired at the startled Russians.

The driver's side window was down and even through the rain, Race and Phil could see and hear their rescuer. "Get in."

"You!" Phil sneered.

"Get in, you stubborn bastard." Jade shouted back as she leaned out of the window, pointing a small handgun in the direction of Vostok and fired.

"Damnit." Phil grumbled. Quickly holstering his weapon, he grabbed Race's arm and hefted the big man over his shoulders into an impromptu fireman's carry. Scrambling behind the covering fire being provided by Jade and her confederate, Phil reached the van and gently, but swiftly tossed Race inside then climbed in as well. The tattooed rifleman jumped back in and slammed the door shut just as Jade hit the gas and sped straight towards the Russians, sending them diving out of the path of the vehicle.

A number of sharp turns later, the van disappeared from the sight of the Russians and the wails of the police sirens began to recede.

Phil examined Race again as they made their escape, then moved to the front of the vehicle to crouch down next to the driver. "My partner needs medical attention."

"We can't take him to a hospital. That's where Vostok will look for you next." Jade replied.

"Then where?" Phil asked.

"I know a guy." Jade replied.

Sneering at the woman, Phil rolled his eyes. "Of course you do, Jade."

"Oh and you're welcome, Corbin." Jade shot back as she watch Phil through the rearview mirror stumble back to his wounded partner's side.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 5**

Race groaned from the pain in his gut and the spinning in his head. His eyes focused for a brief moment as he felt the van in which he was riding come to an abrupt stop. Watching as the long-haired youth opened the side door of the vehicle, Race felt Phil grab one of his arms as the gun-toting metal-head grabbed the other.

"Come on." Phil grunted as he worked with the youth to extract Race from the vehicle.

"This shit hurts." Race mumbled as the two other men secured him and started leading him down a dark passageway. The rain in this part of the city had gradually receded, with only a light drizzle now assaulting the group.

Race wanted to say more, but he felt a wave of nausea wash over him as his legs, already wobbly and unsteady, slid out from beneath him, pulling the other two men down with him as well.

"Steady, Bannon." Phil moved to reposition his footing based on Race's weakening condition.

"This way." Jade breathed as she led them down a short flight of stairs and through a door.

Within moments Jade had brought the two I-1 agents to the tattoo parlor where she had previously met with her young contact, Gregor. Opening the door, then holding it ajar for the trio to pass through, Jade watched as Gregor, who was now alone, stood and took in the scenario with both shock and anger.

"What's this?" He glared at Jade.

"He's been shot." She replied.

"Then take him to the hospital." Gregor shot back.

"These are the men I told you about earlier, Gregor." Jade told her comrade.

"Can you help him or not?" Corbin sneered at the duo.

Shoulders heaving with a sigh, Gregor motioned them forward through the door to the rear of the room. Entering the other room, it appeared to be another tattoo suite, but this one had what appeared to be a surgical or hospital style bed in the middle, convenient for inking customers' backs. Gregor flipped a switch and a large overhead light illuminated the bed.

Phil and Gregor's other man placed Race upon the bed as Gregor pulled up a chair before donning surgical gloves. "How bad was he shot?"

Phil shook his head. "I think it was a ricochet; no exit wound."

Gregor nodded as Phil began to strip Race's vest off so Race could pull up his shirt. Exposing the wound, Race lie back down on the bed, his forehead dripping with sweat. Gregor prodded around the wound, pressing on Race's torso while at the same time using gauze to wipe away the blood.

"What qualifies you as a Doctor again?" Race hissed through his clenched jaw as he watched the tattoo artist work.

"I was a medic during my conscription," Gregor explained as he reached for a scalpel. "The bullet is not deep. I think I can remove it, but this will hurt."

Race gave Phil a pleading look, but the other man just stood to the side, watching the scene playing out before him. Meeting Race's look, Phil shrugged and said, "Not much other choice, Bannon."

Race nodded, "Just do what you have to do."

Gregor gave the rest of the occupants one last look, his gaze lingering a tad longer on Jade as if to admonish her for bringing the wounded agent to him, then turned his attention to performing the back-alley surgery.

Using the scalpel, Gregor made an criss-cross incision, opening the wound further. Race gritted his teeth, fighting back both the pain and the sudden desire to pass out. Sweat drenched his face and chest and his entire body felt like it was on fire, his hands gripped the edges of the bed so tightly that his fingers began to ache almost immediately.

Setting the bloody scalpel down, Gregor next reached for a spreader which he stuck into Race's wound in order to keep it open. Race's body jerked, as he let out a short yell.

"Try not to move." Gregor's voice was serious.

"I'm trying, damnit." Race spoke through short gasps.

"Now comes the painful part," Gregor said as he picked up clamps. "This may cause you to pass out. You as well." He added the last part with a look to Phil and Jade who both stood side by side watching the surgery.

Jade watched as Phil rolled his eyes. She could tell he was concerned about his partner, but she knew his mind was probably racing with a thousand different questions and scenarios. "You could be a little more supportive of your friend, Corbin." Jade said in a low, hushed tone.

Grunting he turned to glare at her. "While I appreciate your help in this situation, Jade, I didn't ask for your advice."

Jade guffed at him, "Is it really that hard for you, Phil?"

"What?"

"To not be a dick all the time." Jade smirked at him.

"You two need to knock it off or get out of here," Gregor said, keeping his eyes on his work.

Phil huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention back to Race.

Race braced for what he knew was going to be an onslaught of pain, but when Gregor stuck the clamps into his open wound, the actual flash of searing agony was more than he had expected. He felt the cold, steel clamps prodding, seeking the bullet that had lodged itself somewhere in his torso. Gregor sneered as he worked the clamps in the direction of where he had felt the round. Race cried out as the clamps twisted in Gregor's hand, turning to snatch the bullet and pull it free.

Phil moved over to Race's side and placed his hands on the big man's shoulders, providing both a level of comfort but also helping brace Race from fighting and twisting too much.

"Almost there," Gregor breathed as he continued to twist the clamps.

"He's almost got it." Phil said, looking between the tattoo artist digging in Race's flesh and at his partner, whose face was flushed a bright red and still gushing sweat.

"I think," Gregor mumbled, biting down on his tongue and securing the clamp to the discovered bullet. As the device grabbed the bullet, he quickly pulled the clamps back and out. Secured within the clamps was a blood covered bullet and a piece of Race's shirt. "Got it!" Gregor exclaimed proudly as he held the clamps up for all to see.

Race lifted his head to see as Phil removed his hands from his friend's shoulders. Holding out his hand, Race gestured to Gregor, who responded by dropping the bullet into Race's palm.

"A souvenir?" Phil joked as he patted Race's upper arm.

Race curled his fingers around the cartridge as he dropped his head back onto the table. "I'm gonna return this in kind to, Vostok."

Gregor went to work on cleaning, sterilizing, and bandaging Race's body as his long-haired companion came over to Race and handed him a bottle of liquor. Pulling the cap off, Race took a swig of the clear, potent liquid and felt it burn in his gut. "Now you give this to me!"

"Alcohol thins the blood." Gregor said.

"Yeah." Race sighed as he took another drink.

Returning his attention to their rescuer now that Race was attended to, Corbin shot the short-haired woman a scathing look. "So, what exactly prompted you to come to our rescue?"

Jade rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. "You could just say thank you, ya know."

Phil kept his focus on her actions and words and not her body. His dealings with Jade in the past led him to know that she was an expert at distraction and manipulation, especially with the men that crossed her path. "Nothing you do is out of the goodness of your heart, Jade."

"Phil, lighten up, man," Race started, he was weak, and while the pain was subsiding thanks to the alcohol, he still struggled to remain focused.

Phil held up a hand, cutting the other agent off. Keeping his eyes on Jade he said, "Everything Jade here does, benefits Jade. That's it. Don't for one second think she saved us from Vostok because she wanted to help."

Jade let out a short laugh. "You think you know it all, don't you, Phil? Perhaps I did want to help."

"Is that why you attacked him in the alley the other night?" Phil jerked a thumb back at Race. "Because you just wanted to help?"

Jade shrugged lackadaisically. "I had no idea he was one of your I-1 men." She could tell the veteran agent was still hyped up from the shootout, but she also knew that he was suspicious of her based on their past encounter.

"Bullshit." Corbin spat. "You want me to believe you, tell me the truth. Why did you help us?"

Jade sighed and confessed. "I found something the other night. Something that made me realize that I was being played and was in way over my head. I knew," she hesitated as Phil continued to stare her down, then realized she had to give him at least some of the truth, if for no other reason than to calm him down. "I knew you were here. I saw you at the Square the other day. I assumed you were after this."

Reaching in to her purse Jade withdrew the black vial. She held it up for the two agents to see and gloated a tad on the inside at the looks of surprise on both men's faces.

"What is that?" Race asked.

"I was hoping you would know." Jade said, however she made no move to hand over the vial.

"Where did you get it?" Phil asked.

"Let's just say I acquired it by accident." Jade smiled. "I brought it here to Gregor, but he doesn't have the ability to analyze what might be inside."

"And you think we do?" Race asked, but Phil shot him a look, cutting the younger agent off. If Phil had a way to tell what was inside the vial then Race didn't know, but it appeared that Jade might.

Sighing Corbin said, "You want to prove your trustworthiness to me, Jade. Give me the vial." He held out his hand.

"It's not a matter of proving anything to you." Jade replied with a curt smile.

"Fine," Phil countered, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. "Then give to me as a show of good faith. If that thing contains what we think it does, I don't like the idea of you just walking around with it in your purse."

Jade pondered the agent's words for a few minutes. Finally, she acquiesced and gently placed the vial into Phil's hand. Giving the man a playful grin she said, "Just take good care of it. We remember what happened last time in Korea."

Phil seethed at the woman's shot, but he had to shake it off. He knew she was intentionally pushing his buttons just to get him worked up; it was how Jade operated.

"Now what?" Race sat up after Gregor was finished with his stitches and bandages. He was still woozy and needed some rest, but the good news was that he had been damn lucky, really damn lucky that the bullet hadn't gone any deeper.

"We need to get some sleep." Phil offered as he tucked the vial away in his pocket. "I'll make some calls and we can regroup in a few hours."

"Sleep sounds damn good right about now." Race threw in as his head started to throb. He wondered if it was from the procedure he had just endured, the adrenaline from the shootout wearing off, the alcohol, or a combination of all three.

"Alexander and I can take you back to your hotel," Jade stated. "I want to know what's in that vial, Phil. After all, I found it."

Phil nodded, but didn't offer any explanation as to how he planned to discover the contents of the blacked out tube.

"We should get going." The long-haired man, Alexander, suggested.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

His mood foul, Vostok barreled through the door of the farm, startling his men as well as Peter, the bomb maker. "How did they find out about our plans?" Vostok shouted as Colonel Yasimov trailed along behind the irate General.

"Someone must have tipped them off, General." The Colonel offered.

Vostok's eyes narrowed at the suggestion. "None of my men would ever turn tail and run to the Americans. No, Nikolai, it had to be something or someone else."

"Doctor Arman perhaps?" Nikolai suggested.

"That is more logical, but I do not think he would do so either. More than likely his flamboyant spending caught their attention. The fool!" Vostok deduced.

"How much do you think they know?" Nikolai asked.

"We have to assume they know all. Which means we need to change our plans." Vostok stroked his chin as he thought. Turning his attention to the bomb maker, he watched the nervous man as he attempted to act as if he was not listening to the conversation.

Walking over, Vostok placed a hand on the man's shoulder, tightening his grip to display his strength and dominance. "Peter, how imperative is it that you have the delivery system for my plan's surprises?"

Gulping Peter replied, "If you want me to make the device safe for transport, then I would need those components."

"I do not care about that, comrade." Vostok growled. "Not anymore."

Peter eyed the General with concern, "Without it whoever delivers the devices could be exposed, General."

"Again, I do not care about that." Vostok repeated. "Continue to make the bombs to the specifications I require. I need them ready to be delivered as soon as Doctor Arman delivers the bio-agents."

"Yes, General." Peter mumbled as he turned back to his work.

Vostok motioned to Yasimov, who appeared just as confused as the bomb maker, as he proceeded back outside into the cold, dark night. "Have your man that guarding Arman bring the Kazakhstani here. I no longer trust the man to work without my supervision."

"Yes, General." Yasimov replied. He hesitated, then started. "Without the safeguards from the delivery system components,"

"Doctor Arman's foolishness has brought the Americans in on this sooner than we wanted, so Doctor Arman will deliver the device to the Americans. Setting the bombs off in the Russian and Jewish Districts of the city will no longer matter. Now I just want to make these American dogs suffer as greatly as possible."

"Where do we attack?" Yasimov asked.

"Where they will least expect it." Vostok laughed, the menace and hate that poured forth from his lips resounded through the otherwise quiet night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Doctor Quest." Corbin said as he shook hands with the up and coming scientist. The two men stood in the lobby of the Aria Hotel, where the Quests were staying as guests attending the Bio-Defense Symposium. The lobby was beginning to feel cramped as guests, tourists, and locals moved about, ready to begin whatever plans they had arranged for the day.

Corbin had placed a call to the Doctor, asking for his help with identifying what, if anything, was inside the blacked out vial. In the past, Doctor Benton Quest had worked on a handful of U.S. Government research projects and was familiar with Intelligence One. He and the young Agent had met once before when the Doctor had briefed I-1's Director Stephens.

"Of course, Agent Corbin." The bearded man offered. "I wasn't aware that the organization was operating here at the moment, so you understand there was a bit of a surprise when you called."

Corbin smiled briefly. He was tired, having only gotten a few hours of sleep before having to get ready to meet Quest. He had left Race at the hotel, insisting he'd only be gone a short time and that Race needed time to recover.

"I understand completely and I promise not to take up too much of your time. I know you want to enjoy the city with your family before the symposium."

The Doctor nodded with a smile. "And speaking of," He said as he saw his young wife approaching. With the other Doctor Quest was a young boy, the Quests' son Jonny, who appeared no older than two to three, as well as a short haired brunette woman who appeared to be roughly the same age as Rachel Quest.

Phil straightened and readjusted his tie as the group approached, hoping to mask both his exhaustion and his worry. While he needed Quest to help with the vial, he also did not want to create a panic in the event this was a false lead.

Corbin watched as Doctor Rachel Quest, the young blonde woman who had caught the eager scientist's attention a number of years prior, gave her husband a slight peck on the cheek before turning towards the I-1 Agent. "Good morning." She smiled warmly at him.

"Rachel," Benton stated as he gestured at the younger man. "This is Agent Phil Corbin from Intelligence Once. He and I worked briefly together a couple of years ago."

"Nice to meet you, Doctor." Phil offered as he shook her hand.

"Likewise, Agent Corbin. I hope my husband didn't bore you too much with all of his scientific mumbo-jumbo." Rachel laughed.

"Not at all." Corbin smiled then looked at the young boy that was clinging to his mother's leg. "And who is this young man?"

"This is Jonny," Benton said. "Say hello, Jonny."

The little boy smiled, his bright blue eyes, identical to his mother's darted back and forth as he looked between his father and the stranger that stood before him. "Hello."

"Hello." Phil smiled and received a grin in return from the child, before Jonny lost interest in the adult.

He mumbled before tugging at his mother's jeans and pleading, "Come on, Mommy. I want to go see the castles."

"It takes him time to get used to new people." Rachel offered. "He's a handful though, that's for sure. It's like he never slows down."

Phil gave Rachel a kind smile; he definitely was not used to dealing with children and therefore did not really know how to appropriately respond.

"Believe me, Agent, I know how you feel. He treats me the same way and I've known him since he was a baby." The second woman said as she offered her hand to Phil. "Alena Stasny, MP and a longtime friend of the Quests."

Phil smiled, blushing slightly as he took the woman's hand; he found her features stunning and her accent captivating. "It's alright. We don't deal much with children in my line of work."

"Just wait till you become a father." Alena replied and received a subtle smile in return from the American Agent.

"I think I need to settle down first before that happens."

"You just need to find the right woman to make you settle down." Alena offered playfully.

"So, Dear" Doctor Quest addressed his wife, not picking up on the subtle flirtations between his wife's Czech friend and the I-1 Agent. "Agent Corbin needs my help for a little while. You can go ahead and start your shopping without me and we can meet up later for lunch?"

"Of course, Benton." Rachel said.

"Will you be joining us, Agent Corbin?" Alena asked.

Shrugging Corbin replied, "I can't promise. It all depends on the results of what I've asked Doctor Quest with for help."

"Well, let's hope the results are in your favor then." Alena stated, but then added with a hint of seriousness in her voice, "But may I ask you a question, Agent?"

"You can call me Phil." Corbin found himself saying.

Smiling Alena continued, "Is there something going on that I should be aware of? Is there a threat to my city that would bring you here? I may only be a low-level MP at the moment, but that does not mean I am not concerned about the welfare and safety of my fellow citizens."

Corbin found another reason to like her. Besides her looks, she was smart as well. Nothing got past this woman. He had seen that the news reported their shootout as being gang related and there was no communication from the States that he or Race had been discovered. But he also didn't like the idea of lying, so he shrugged off her questions, "Not at all. This is just routine work. Boring stuff really."

She appeared satisfied with his answer, at least for the moment. "Well, perhaps you can fill me in on the details some other time. Will you be attending the Symposium?"

"I think I can make some arrangements." Phil responded.

"Then I hope to see you there. I'm interested to know more about you and why exactly you need to steal Benton away from us this morning."

"I'm sure we can find something to converse about."

Giving the Agent one last wily smile, Alena turned towards Rachel and Jonny, "Let's head out, Rachel. I want to get something special for Jonny, my little Angel."

The young boy perked up at the mention of his name and took Alena's hand. Waving at the men, Rachel and Alena headed out the doors of the hotel lobby with Jonny in between them.

Exhaling, Phil watched the two women disappear from sight before turning to Doctor Quest again. "Again, thank you for your help, Doctor."

"Let's head over to the University's lab." Benton said as the two men started off as well. "And like I said, no trouble at all. Believe me when I say, I'd rather be in a lab than out shopping with those two ladies."

Phil grinned as Benton clapped him on the shoulder. "If you say so, Doctor."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A faint noise pulled Race into wakefulness and he groaned as his stiff body protested the sudden movement. Gritting his teeth, he paused, wondering if the noise had just been a part of a dream but just as he was almost convinced that was the case, he heard it again. Someone was in the suite, out of sight from Race's bedroom area.

Pushing the covers off, Race slowly and quietly got out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Grabbing his handgun from the nightstand, he silently made his way from the bedroom. Pushing on one of the French doors that closed off the bedroom from the living area, Race moved towards the kitchenette where he heard the rustling for the third time.

Handgun low, but ready to be brought to aim within a split second, Race rounded through the room, moving in on the kitchenette with grace and skill. As the area came in to view, he saw a figure crouched in the shadows, prompting him to raise the handgun and order, "Stop right there."

Slowly standing up, the figure stated, "I was just looking for some drinks."

Race sighed and lowered his weapon. "How'd you get in here?"

Turning to face him, Race was confronted by the mysterious Jezebel Jade. A playful smile spread across the woman's lips as her eyes gazed upon Race's half-naked body. "Wow, you I-1 guys sure like to work out."

"What do you want?" Race asked.

With a soft-purr like tone, Jade replied. "A lot of things at the moment."

Race rolled his eyes, "I don't have time for your games. How'd you get in here and why are you here?"

With a feigned look of hurt, Jade pouted her lips as she brushed past Race and into the living area. Sitting down on one of the couches she looked at the white-haired man and said. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Jade."

Race sighed. "Race Bannon and I know who you are."

Jade snorted a laugh, "Race? What kind of name is that?"

"It's a nickname." Race explained. "My real name is Roger."

Jade huffed. "I think we'll stick with Race."

Race glared at the woman, but found himself slowly relaxing. she may have broken in to his hotel and she may be all the things that Corbin had said she was, but she also saved their lives and for that Race had to be somewhat thankful. "What do you want?"

"I want to help." Jade offered.

"Really?" Doubt laced in Race's response.

"Look," Jade explained. "All you know about me is what Phil told you, right? He doesn't trust me, I get that."

"Maybe because you stole those codes from him." Race shot in.

"I didn't steal them from him," Jade countered, "at least not directly. I just prevented him from getting them back."

"You were ready to hand over launch codes to a nuclear missile to the North Koreans for money."

Jade shrugged off Race's statement. "I'm a businesswoman."

Race crossed his arms over his chest, "And you wonder why Corbin doesn't trust you."

"I didn't sell them though." Jade stated. "So he was safe, the only damage that was done was to his ego. And now I've not only risked my neck to save you two last night, I've handed over that vial. Yet, you two still have your doubts." Standing she said, "Perhaps it would be best if I went back to working on my own. I'll take my score back to my employer and let you two deal with Vostok and whatever it is that Russian psychopath has planned."

Race sighed, "Ok, look, I'm sorry."

Jade eyed him for a moment, but then sat back down.

"How can you help?"

"Where's your partner?" Jade asked.

Race shook his head. "He went out to meet a contact. He has the vial. Don't worry, it's safe."

Jade pondered the information for a moment. "Your partner is a lot of things, Race, and while he drives me just as crazy through his fanatical devotion to regulations as I must drive him crazy with my...methods, he is loyal and dedicated. Those attributes count for something, even to someone like me."

"Get to the point, Jade." Race stated. He didn't think her statement was meant to be manipulative, but the last thing he needed was for Jade to try to play him against Phil and Intelligence One.

"Like I said, I want to help. But we don't have a lot of time at the moment." She stood and Race saw the sly, manipulative Jezebel Jade replaced by a woman driven by seriousness and determination. "I know where Doctor Arman is."

"You do?" Race perked up at the information.

"For now, yes. But for how long I don't know."

"We need to get our hands on him." Race said. "Give me a minute to get dressed. We need to call Corbin as well."

"Every second counts, Race." Jade watched him move back towards his bedroom area and she pushed the illicit thoughts about the man from her mind...temporarily. "We don't have time to wait for Corbin."

"Fine," Race called, his voice raised from behind the bedroom doors. Minutes later, he emerged fully clothed, handgun strapped to his belt. Grabbing his leather jacket he slipped it on, concealing his weapon and said, "Let's head out. We'll let Phil know if we find anything after we get there."

"Sounds like a plan," Jade said as she fell in step with Race. "By rule I work alone, but you know something?"

"What?" Race asked over his shoulder as they headed out of the room and into the hallway.

"This is kind of fun." Jade replied.

Race gave the woman a quick smile as he pulled the door closed, "Yeah, for sure."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **A/N: MP = Member of Parliament. In this story, Alena Stasny is not yet the President of the Czech Republic as she is in TRAJQ S2.**

 **To Be Continued...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 6**

Disembarking the vehicle, Race followed Jade towards the entrance of the building. Still within the city, Jade had taken him to a long row of apartments, the architecture of the centuries old building blending in perfectly with the rest of Prague's structures. Race whistled appreciatively as they made their way inside.

"This looks to be some pretty posh living right here." Race stated.

"Askar lives on the top floor, the penthouse loft." Jade replied as she headed up the stairs.

"Pretty expensive taste for an all around creep, not to mention a madman." Race commented.

"He's arrogant and obsessive which makes him dangerous."

"How'd you get involved with such a lowlife?" Race asked his new companion.

Jade smirked, "Watch the implications there, Race. He has something my employer wanted. That's all."

"And who is your employer?"

"Nice try," Jade looked back, wiggling a finger at the Agent. "I'm helping you out with this situation here. That doesn't mean I kiss and tell in regards to the rest of my business."

"Well, since we haven't gotten to the kissing part...yet," Race teased.

Rolling her eyes, Jade chuckled. "Men. You're all the same."

"I'm just saying," Race grinned, but Jade shushed him with a wave of her hand as they reached the top floor of the building.

Race pulled his handgun from the holster, keeping it pointed low, thumb ready to disengage the safety in a heartbeat, he nodded to his female acquaintance and she pointed to the door at the far end of the hallway.

"That's his place." She whispered in his ear.

Nodding Race moved forward. Reaching the door, he placed an ear against the wooden structure, listening for any signs of life beyond the entrance; no sounds could be heard from within. Grasping the knob with one hand and twisting, Race found the door to be locked.

Looking back at Jade, Race shook his head. Moving back, he positioned himself squarely in front of the door, ready to launch a swift kick in order to break the lock.

"What are you doing?" Jade whispered, placing a hand on his arm.

"We need to get inside." Race shot her a perturbed look.

Grinning, Jade replied. "While I don't work for your organization, I can't imagine you're allowed to just go around kicking in doors whenever you get a hunch."

"What do you propose?" Race asked, he didn't have time to waste asking for permission.

"Allow me." Jade smiled. Stepping forward, she reached into her purse to withdraw a rolled up leather bundle. She knelt in front of the door then rolled out the bundle, revealing a set of locking picking tools. "Just watch my back, handsome."

Glancing back and forth between the hallway and Jade, Race marveled at the idea that he had so willingly teamed up with this mysterious and intriguing woman. Even with no concrete proof that Doctor Arman was involved with Vostok, Race knew that breaking into the man's loft was necessary, even if it was going to get him an ass-chewing later on down the road.

"Hurry up." Race kept his voice low.

"Relax, Race," Jade replied as she manipulated the tools to open the lock. "I'm almost there."

As if in response to her statement, the lock released with an audible pop. Standing Jade rolled her tools back up, "See? So much better than having to explain a kicked in door."

Shaking his head, Race knew she was right. "Stay right behind me."

Opening the door, Race pushed forward into the loft's main living area. The lights were off, but enough sunlight filtered through the row of windows to illuminate the room. Moving swiftly, weapon raised, Race cleared the room before moving through the rest of the apartment.

Stepping back into the main room, Race holstered his weapon. "All clear. He's not here."

Moving towards the windows, Jade threw back the drapes, bathing the room in the late morning sunlight. Glancing about the room, she noticed that nothing seemed out of place, nothing indicating that Arman had taken off in a hurry. "I wonder if he's coming back."

Race stroked his chin as he thought. "I wonder if he's still alive."

Jade gave the agent a sideways look as she headed for Arman's office. "I found that vial in here."

The mentioned of the vial set Race's instincts on alert once again. If the vial did contain a biological agent, then perhaps it wasn't safe in the loft, however if Arman lived here he wouldn't be creating his deadly substances in the same area as he lived.

He observed Jade head straight to the desk, then crouch down. "Damnit." She grumbled as she stood back up.

"What is it?"

"The safe is locked."

Race eyed the woman for a moment, his mind beginning to question her motivations for helping him. "Why do you need to get into his safe?"

She looked at him momentarily then turned her attention towards the man's desk. "That's where I found the vial. I thought perhaps there would be more."

Shuffling through the stacks of papers, Jade grumbled. It appeared that Arman had cleaned up after he had discovered her thievery. None of the documents appeared to be important.

"If we get permission to search this place, then we can get inside the safe."

"That might take too long." Jade countered.

Race narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring down the woman. "What exactly are you looking for, Jade?"

Shrugging innocently, Jade smiled at the man to set him at ease. "I'm helping, remember."

Race's thoughts went back to Phil's words the night before, that what Jade does only benefits Jade. Race wondered if he had been too trustworthy with the woman when he had found her in his hotel room earlier.

Focusing back on the task at hand, Race said, "If Arman is making these biological agents, he has to be doing it somewhere close. I can't imagine Vostok would let him move about freely if he had already created the weapon."

"Vostok will kill Doctor Arman the moment he's done with him." Jade agreed.

"But Arman must have some leverage he's using against Vostok." Jade suggested.

"Or Vostok doesn't want Arman creating his concoctions anywhere close to the rest of his operations." Race countered. "Vostok's no fool. He'd realize that if something went wrong, Arman's work could kill everyone involved before Vostok was able to enact his plan."

"So you think Arman has a lab somewhere else?" Jade asked.

"What else is in this building?" Race inquired.

"Just apartments I guess." Jade replied.

"Is there a basement?"

Shrugging she said, "I have no idea."

Race smiled at the woman, "Well, let's go find out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Where did you get this?" Doctor Quest asked, leaning back from the microscope.

Seated at an isolated examination chamber within the university's deserted lab, Doctor Quest studied the contents of the vial. Having placed the small vial within the chamber, he had engaged the robotic arms in order to open the vial and dump its contents onto the table.

As the vial was upturned, a thick blackish, brown liquid oozed forth from within. With great care, the young scientist had processed a portion of the sample for further study.

"An acquaintance found it hidden away in a man's apartment." Corbin responded.

Quest stroked his beard as he took in the information. He mumbled incoherently to himself as his eyes became distant.

"Doctor?" Phil prodded. "What is it?"

The I-1 agents words seemed to snap the Doctor back to reality. "It's a plague."

Phil blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Its plague, Agent Corbin." Quest said again as he stood and faced the other man. "or more specifically that sample contains the bacterium that causes the plague. However,"

Seeing the scientist's thoughts beginning to wander again, Phil said. "However 'what', Doctor Quest?"

Looking the I-1 Agent in the eyes, Benton replied, "It's not like any plague-causing bacterium I've seen before. This is something different...something new. Something deadlier than the bubonic and pneumonic plagues combined."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back on the street, Race squinted against the bright rays of the sun as it ascended in the sky, nearing midday. Shielding his eyes, he glanced at Jade, "Let's try around the corner. See if there's an entrance to the basement off of the back alley."

"Alright." Jade replied. Race couldn't be certain, but the woman seemed distracted, as if she had wanted to spend more time in the loft. Once again Race found himself wondering just what Jade's motivations were.

Moving quickly, the pair rounded the street corner and headed for the back alley a number of yards away. Entering they saw a blue van, similar to the one that Jade had driven the night before, parked at the far end of the alley; it was a common enough delivery van, but something about the darkened window and its proximate location to the building set Race on alert. Once off the main street, he pull out his pistol and quickened his pace.

"What is it?" Jade asked.

"Stay close." Race ordered as he watched a man emerge from a set of steps sunken into the concrete, the stairs leading down to what Race believed was the basement of Arman's building.

Keeping close to the side of the building they were currently next to, Race saw that the man appeared not to notice the duo. Race continued to close the distance as he kept his eyes on the man. From what he could tell, the unknown person was not Arman, being far too young with a crop of dirty blonde hair and a light-skinned complexion. He watched as the man opened the rear doors of the van, but since his body was blocking, Race could not see what, if anything, was in the vehicle.

Something about the man made Race tighten his grip on his pistol while continuing to move forward. Approximately twenty yards from the target, Race saw the man turn his head towards the stairs and shout; the rough words was enough for Race. While he didn't understand Russian, he was able to recognize the coarseness of the words as the man spoke.

Stepping out from his location, Race raised his pistol at the man. Opening his mouth, Race was about to shout an order to him to surrender, when the man reached into the back of the van and turned. Race's eyes went wide, the man grinned viciously as he raised the AK-47 assault rifle to the pocket of his shoulder and fired.

Diving for cover, Race nearly avoided the onslaught of rounds as they whizzed by overhead. "Get to cover." Race shouted at Jade as he scrambled towards a tiny dumpster.

Reaching the destination safely, Race peered around the edge at his assailant and saw another man emerge from the stairwell. "Arman." Race growled as he once again laid eyes on the Kazakhstani scientist.

The gunman moved, providing cover for Arman as he headed towards the driver's side of the van. Aiming his weapon blindly around the corner of the dumpster, Race fired off of a couple of rounds then quickly ducked back. Looking around he didn't see Jade anywhere.

Gunshots once again deafened his thoughts. Sneering he waited for the right moment. Seconds later, he heard what he was waiting for; the distinct sound the AK-47s bolt being locked to the rear; the gunman was out of ammo.

Rolling out from behind the dumpster, Race came up on one knee, aimed and fired. His rounds slammed into the man's chest. Vaulting to his feet, Race was on the move, however he couldn't see Arman anymore.

A second later, the van's engine started and Race watched as it started to pull away. Swearing under this breath, Race fired at the van, but the momentum of the vehicle's forward movement caused the back doors to slam shut. Within a blink of an eye, the van was racing down the rest of the alley and turning out onto the street.

Running past the dead gunman, Race kicked the empty rifle away, just in case, as he sprinted after the van. Coming out on to the street, he saw curious onlookers watching him, but the van was gone.

"Damnit." Race spat as he headed back into the alley. "Jade!" He yelled, but the woman was gone.

"Blast that woman!" He shouted, she had left him on his own. Checking the gunman for a pulse, Race wasn't surprised when he didn't find one; the four holes in the man's chest indicative of his demise.

Pulling out his phone, Race scanned the area. He imagined that someone had to have heard the gunshots and called the police, but he couldn't leave. At this point, whether he liked it or not, the Czech authorities were going to be involved.

Race called Phil and filled him in on the details. "I'm going to check out the basement. That's where they were coming out of."

"Race, just wait. We're dealing with something new, something dangerous." Phil replied. "What's the address?"

Race gave the information over to his partner.

"I'm on my way there now."

"So are the cops, I'm sure."

"You need to talk to them if they get there before me." Phil replied. "Just stay cool. The responding officers won't know who you are, but their superiors should. Best to cooperate and not get arrested."

"Jade ran off." Race ran his free hand through his hair as he spoke.

A moment of silence from Phil made Race a second-guess his actions once again. "Don't worry about her," Phil said eventually. "She'll show back up when she wants."

Nodding Race smiled, "Yeah. I should have listened to you about her."

Phil chuckled, "Yeah, you should have. But don't worry about it. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"Got it," Race replied, the wail of the police sirens drawing near. "The cops are going to get here first, so hurry up. You're better at this protocol, cooperation bullshit than I am."

"Understood." Phil replied and hung up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What is it?" Vostok growled into the phone.

"They found me." Askar reported. He had narrowly escaped with his life when the American agent had started shooting, but he had managed to get out into traffic, blending in with the midday rush while at the same time avoiding police suspicion. "But I managed to get away. Your guard didn't make it."

Vostok grunted, "He died for the cause. Please, Doctor, tell me you have the items."

Askar wiped the sweat from his forehead as he drove with a shaky hand, the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder. Exhaling, he repositioned the cell phone in his free hand, "I do. We managed to secure it prior to the American's arrival."

"Good. Very good, Doctor." Vostok grinned. He paced the length of the room, the cold farmhouse reminding him of the farm where his grandparents had lived in Russia. "Bring it here, but ensure you are not followed."

"I understand." Arman replied, but Vostok had already hung up.

Stopping in place, Vostok looked at his Colonel and grinned. "Our plan is coming to fruition, Colonel. With Arman's new agent, we no longer need the exact components from the Garrison for the bombs. We can proceed with what we have."

"Are we sure that will suffice?" Yasimov asked, doubt edging into his question.

"Of course it will, but we should test it first to be sure." Vostok smiled.

"A test run? Where?"

"I have the perfect venue in mind, Colonel. And I am sure our good friend and ally Doctor Arman will be more than happy to deliver it himself." Vostok's laugh was laced with pure evil.

Yasimov grinned at his superior's new and diabolical plans.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hearing the sirens grow louder, Jade quickened her step as she headed back up to Arman's loft. Having given the I-1 agent the slip as soon as the Russian gunman had opened fire, Jade headed back to retrieve what she was really after. She actually found herself regretting leaving Bannon, but he appeared to be able to handle himself, not to mention she wasn't even armed with her own handgun at the moment. She'd have been more of a liability to him than an asset. She'd find a way to make it up to him later.

Slipping back inside, Jade headed for Arman's office once again and the locked safe. Kneeling down in front of it, she pulled out her lock picking set once again and got to work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leaning against one of the squad cars, Race rolled his eyes as he watched the local police securing the area. It had taken some explaining on his part, but he had convinced the uniformed officers not to put him in handcuffs, but they had taken away his weapon.

Another vehicle, this one a dark sedan, stopped just beyond the boundaries of the crime scene tape. Race watched as the doors opened and Agent Corbin emerged from one side of the vehicle while another man exited from the driver's side. Glancing at his watch, Race grumbled under his breath, "Fifteen minutes my ass."

Walking up to the uniformed officers, the unknown man spoke to them as Phil made his way towards Race. Pushing himself up off of the vehicle, Race greeted the other agent with a quick handshake. "You catching rides with the locals now, Phil?"

His demeanor dark, Phil frowned. "That's Inspector Kovar, he's with INTERPOL's biological and chemical response unit stationed here in Prague."

"So you found something in that vial?" Race asked.

Phil nodded, "We think it's some sort of new plague bacterium. I contacted INTERPOL just to be on the safe side."

"How bad is it?" Race asked.

"The vial didn't contain a large enough sample to do any real harm, so it's safe to assume that Arman has created more."

At that moment Inspector Kovar approached. He was an older man, but still stocky and well-built. His light brown hair was thinning in the back and his green eyes looked tired. Looking from Corbin to Race, Kovar said, "So this is your man, Corbin?"

Phil nodded, "Yeah, this is him."

Kovar nodded then handed Race's pistol back to Phil. "While I'm grateful for Intelligence One's interest in this matter, I would appreciate it if you'd stop shooting up my city. We can only cover these things up so many times before the public gets suspicious."

"He shot first. I was just defending myself." Race shot back, not liking the INTERPOL man's tone.

Phil waved a subtle hand at Race, indicating for him to remain calm.

"Perhaps, but now we have a mess on our hands and the man you claim to be the real threat has escaped?" Kovar questioned.

"I'm sorry I had to kill a guy that's part of an international criminal organization and ruin your day, Inspector." Race sneered.

Kovar snorted, "Thank you for your help, Gentlemen, we have it from here."

"What the hell?" Race shot back, confronting Kovar.

"Race, calm down." Phil said.

"Hell no, Phil, he can't do this."

"I can, Agent Bannon, and I am. We no longer require your assistance."

"You wouldn't even know about this if it wasn't for us!" Race shouted.

"If you do not control you man, Agent Corbin, I will have him restrained and arrested. As of now it is only his word about what happened here."

"You son of a bitch." Race spat.

"Race, calm down." Phil growled, placing himself between the two men.

"This is bullshit." Race stated. "You're actually playing this political crap, Phil?"

Seeing the situation escalating as the uniformed officers turned their attentions towards them, Phil pushed Race backwards, away from the INTERPOL agent. "I said calm down, Bannon."

"I can't believe," Race started.

"Would you just shut the fuck up for one damn second?" Phil shouted as he pushed Race harder, causing Race to stop in his protests.

Seeing Race relax a tad, Phil handed him his weapon back, "I said calm down. Think about this for one second, you damn hothead! You've been involved in a shooting on foreign soil, twice now actually. And this time it was in the middle of the day at a location that you shouldn't even be at. Look at it from their angle, Bannon."

Securing his weapon back in its holster, Race took a number of deep breaths. Finally he sighed and said, "You're right, Phil."

"You're goddamn right I'm right." Phil said, but Race noticed the man's tone had lightened. "Kovar is just posturing, that's all. He has to make himself look good in front of his people. We'd do the same damn thing if this was on U.S. soil, so relax."

"This is the part of the job I can never get used to." Race laughed, "Too much politicking for me, man."

"Provoke him and he will have your arrested though. So just let him do what he has to do to calm the situation down. Then he'll invite us back in and we can conduct a joint search."

"You sure he's going to do that?" Race asked.

"It took some finagling but I think I managed to convince him to help. Until then, just take a breather, calm down and tell me how the hell you ended up here anyways."

"Jade brought me here." Race said after a few moments. "But I think she was after something else."

"Like what?"

"I have no idea, Phil. Damn that woman!" Race laughed at himself as he sat down on a curb and waited.

Phil laughed as he patted Race on the shoulder, "I told you so, Bannon."

Watching the cops work, Race let his mind wander back to thoughts of Jade and how she managed to invoke such a plethora of feelings within him; at one point he was infatuated like a teenager with the woman and the next he wanted to throttle the living daylights out of her. Either way, he found her to be the most fascinating and frustrating woman he'd ever known.

Ten minutes later, Kovar whistled drawing Race's attention back to the present. Standing he saw the INTERPOL agent waving them over.

"Just stay calm and let me do the talking, alright?" Phil said as the two went over to join their counterparts.

"You like this guy?" Race asked.

"Not at all. He's pompous and lazy, but we have to work with him, at least for now." Phil replied.

Nodding, Race agreed. Before he could reply they had reached the other man's side. Kovar eyed Race for a moment then said, "I did an initial swab test of the basement door. There could be trace elements of some foreign substance down there. I've called in a response unit. No one goes in until they set up a perimeter and secure the place."

"Doctor Arman and that thug came out of there dressed just like us." Race interjected.

"I'd rather be safe than sorry, Agent Bannon, especially with the health and safety of my people." Kovar replied. Race noticed the edge in his tone was gone. He'd probably realized his mistake and how bad things could have been if not for Race and Phil.

"We understand, Inspector." Phil said. "We'll head upstairs and search Arman's residence if you don't mind."

"I'll send a uniform with you to guard the door." Kovar jerked his head behind him, indicating the small crowd of curious onlookers that was gathering beyond the edge of the crime scene.

"Thanks." Phil replied then nodded at Race to lead the way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Falling in step with a gaggle of tourists across the street, Jade watched as the American agents came into view from around the street corner accompanied by a local law enforcement officer, then head inside Arman's building. Breathing a sigh of relief, she congratulated herself for being able to get into Arman's safe in record time, securing the items she was searching for, and getting out unseen. Any longer and Bannon and Corbin would have found her and then she'd have even more explaining to do. For now, she could use the excuse that she had panicked when the shooting had started and ran.

As the two men disappeared into the building, Jade patted her purse delicately, smiled, then headed off towards the Cafe Louvre, famished she found she had a taste for a light French cuisine at the moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back inside Arman's apartment, Race flipped on the lights. As much as Arman had decorated the place with his acquired Renaissance artwork, Race felt no sense of coziness or elegance from the room. It was as if Doctor Arman's displays were merely for show, rather than being a part of something the man loved and adored.

"This place gives me the creeps." Race said as he studied one of the paintings. While he appreciated the pieces of art, the Renaissance period just wasn't his style.

"He certainly has an extensive and expensive collection." Phil said.

Race came up to Phil's side, as the other man was looking at a collection of miniature paintings. "Such odd stuff." Race smirked.

"Back then these miniatures were quiet popular," Phil stated. "Only someone with quiet a significant amount of money could afford this many miniature paintings."

Race eyed the other man as a grin slowly spread across his face. "How do you know so much about this stuff, Phil?"

Shrugging Phil replied, "About a year ago I dated a woman that was into this kind of stuff. We met at the Smithsonian one afternoon."

"So because she was into it, you got into it, huh?" Race joked.

"I figured it was my best way in." Phil responded.

"Into what? Her bedroom?"

"Screw you, Bannon." Phil snorted a laugh.

"That's a yes." Race deduced.

"Did we come here to talk about me or to find out where Arman and Vostok are hiding? Not to mention where and when they plan to attack?"

Race sighed and pointed down the darkened hallway, "His office is that way." As the two men made their way towards the room, Race prodded his partner again, "So what happened?"

"What?"

"With your Renaissance girlfriend? Did it work?"

"You make me sound like such a dog, Race." Phil said with a laugh, "But yes, it worked."

"I'm going to have to remember that play."

Shaking his head, Phil replied. "Bannon, I think you'll do just fine. Its a shame things didn't work out for you and Estella."

"Estella and I tried, but even with Jessie being our glue we couldn't make it work."

"Your daughter is the only one that matters in that relationship now. Just be the best father to her that you can be."

Nodding Race said, "Yeah." He headed over towards Arman's desk and knelt down. Pulling on a pair of gloves, Race curled his fingers around the handle of the safe and without turning it, he pulled it open; the safe had been unlocked, only the door was pushed shut to appear as it if was locked at a quick glance.

"Hmmm," Race hummed as he peered into the safe, it was empty.

"What is it?" Phil asked.

Standing Race explained, "This safe was locked when Jade and I first came in here. Now it's open...and empty. It looks like whatever that woman was really looking for, she found it."

"That's Jezebel Jade for you, my friend." Phil laughed.

"If I ever see that woman again," Race stated.

"Oh you will, believe me, you will, Race. And sooner than you think I'm sure." Phil said, "But for now, let's head back down to check with Kovar before heading out of here. Tomorrow night is the Symposium dinner."

"Are we going?" Race asked, he hadn't heard of that part of the plan yet.

"I've been thinking," Phil said as the two men left the apartment, "Is it just a coincidence that there is a biodefense symposium going on at the same time that Vostok is threatening a biological attack?"

"You think he plans to attack the conference? But why?" Race asked.

Shaking his head, Phil said, "I don't know, but I think we need to be there just in case. That is if we can't find Vostok before that."

"How do we get in?"

"My contact can get us in," Phil stated, "but first, we need to find some tuxedos."

"A couple of regular spies, huh, Phil?" Race joked as they exited the building.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**

 **A/N: I give credit to questfan dot com, AKA the Quest Writer's Bible, where I get some of my character background information from. A lot of the information on that site was provided by the writers of TRAJQ. In this case, the brief information about Estella is credited to writer Lance Falk. While I do not recall it ever being mentioned on the show that she worked for Intelligence One prior to becoming an Archeologist, it is stated on the site that Race and Estella met through I-1 when she worked there as an instructor.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than my normal ones, but its mainly a transition chapter. More action next chapter!**

 **Chapter 7**

"This is so damn frustrating, Phil!" Race exclaimed. He and Phil had returned to the hotel after checking in with Kovar at the crime scene. The INTERPOL man had ensured the two men that any information he learned from Arman's alleged makeshift lab would be passed along to the Intelligence One men as soon as Kovar found out himself.

If that hadn't been frustrating enough, they were not able to locate Jade again since she had taken off on Race when the Russian gunman had started shooting at them in the back alley of Arman's apartment building. A search of the dead Russian had revealed nothing as well, the man carried no identification nor did he possess any documentation that could give the I-1 agents a clue as to the whereabouts of General Vostok.

"Relax, Race," Phil said as he handed a bottle of the infamous Prague beer, Staropramen, to Race before sitting down. "This is the job. It's not all action all the time, you know."

Rubbing a hand over his face, Race replied, "I know, Phil, but this is just crazy. I mean, how do we know that Vostok isn't going to strike tonight?"

"Honestly, Race, we don't." Phil confessed as he took a long swig from his own bottle. "However, it is safe to assume that he's not. I cannot imagine Vostok has the ability to take Arman's agent and weaponize it within a matter of minutes or even hours."

Race nodded. Before opening his beer, he withdrew his weapon, dropped the magazine and ejected the round from the chamber. With the weapon cleared, he began to strip if down so he could clean it. He'd only fired a few rounds, but Race was meticulous about keeping his firearm clean no matter how many rounds he had fired through it. Phil watched his partner with an approving, but also watchful eye.

Deciding to change the subject, Race started to wipe down his handgun and said, "So you've been with Intelligence One longer than I have. Tell me more about it."

"Like what?" Phil asked.

"Like what to expect. Seriously, Phil, this organization is so different from what I thought it was going to be."

"Do you not enjoy what you're doing? It's not that much different than being in the military, just more freedom of movement in my opinion."

Race gave Phil an inquisitive look, "What made you leave the Army to come over to I-1?"

Phil shrugged, "Better opportunities and better pay."

Race could tell Corbin wasn't being completely honest. "Come on, Phil. Let's be honest with each other. You know everything about me. Hell you have my file and you handpicked me to be your partner for this mission, but I barely know shit about you. We need to be able to trust each other."

"I do trust you." Phil said. The dark haired man took another swig of his beer as he looked away. Race could tell something was bothering him.

"So tell me." Race pushed.

"It's complicated, Roger." Phil mumbled.

Caught off guard by Phil's use of his real name, Race set down the pieces of his handgun on the table and directed his complete attention to the other man. "What happened, Phil? I know there was a mission...a specific mission that brought you over. You're an MI guy, worked with Special Operations Command as a Lieutenant with clearances granted at the highest levels. So what happened?"

Race watched as Phil sighed, turning his gaze to stare out the windows. Letting the man compose his thoughts, Race picked up the barrel of his pistol and began to wipe it down again as he watched his partner's facial expressions; whatever Corbin was remembering it affected the veteran agent more than he tried to let on.

Finally Phil turned his gaze towards Race; a gaze that appeared clouded by torture, anger and sadness all at once. "I was the team leader of a five man HUMINT team deployed to the Balkans."

"During the wars?" Race asked gently, referring to the wars in the Balkans where the US military served as part of the NATO peacekeeping force.

Phil nodded, but his eyes remained distant. He cradled the bottle of beer gently in his hands. "Yes, during the early stages of the war."

"Phil, What happened?" Race asked, realizing that whatever his newfound friend was about to share wasn't going to be pleasant.

"We were looking into reports of mass murders of Muslims and ethnic Croats by Serbian soldiers. Local sources had given us the location of a mass grave as well as the possible hideout of those responsible for the massacre. We found the grave." Phil's eyes were lowered as he recalled his tale, but as he spoke the last sentence he lifted his eyes towards Race and he saw the pain and suffering in the veteran's eyes; pain and suffering that pulled at Race's own heart. "A grave that contained over thirty corpses. Women, children, the elderly, and fighting age men and boys. They had been slaughtered like cattle."

Race remained silent, allowing Phil to continue with his tale. "Later, along with a squad of special forces soldiers, we moved in on the hideout, but someone had tipped the Serbs off. They knew we were coming."

"They ambushed you?" Race asked.

Phil drained his bottle, nodding to Race's question. "Yeah. An improvised explosive device took out three of my people and two of the spec ops guys before we even breached the building. A firefight ensued and after all was said and done, only myself and one of my team members survived, along with three of the special forces guys, one of which died a few days later from his wounds. We were cut down by fifty percent, Race, and for what? To arrest some low level thugs? We didn't even get the ring leader responsible for the massacre."

"So you left the Army after that?"

"Only because the Army refused to acknowledge the operation and the deaths of my comrades, but Intelligence One did. They called me in for a debrief and I told them what happened. A week later I-1 had the ring leader in custody and my team had received the proper recognition for the sacrifices they had made for their country. My youngest trooper, Specialist Davis, had only just turned twenty years old a few weeks prior. Not old enough to buy a beer, but old enough to die for his country. Director Stephens personally worked to get me out of my contract and I've been with I-1 ever since."

Race shook his head, but that fact that Corbin remembered his soldier's name was not lost on Bannon. "Unbelievable that the Army would take such a position."

"It was years ago, Race," Phil said with a shrug. "I still have the utmost respect for the Army and what DoD has to do, but I-1 has more leeway in regards to conducting covert operations and protecting America's freedoms."

"I see." Race mumbled as he returned to cleaning his weapon, but he watched Corbin as the man took a moment to remember his fallen comrades before looking back at Race, and a smile, even a forced one, returning to the man's visage.

Race kept his eyes on his partner as the man stood and stretched. Rubbing his face with his hands, Phil said. "You want to get out of here for a while?"

"Huh?"

"Let me call Pavel and we can head down to the Charles Bridge, see if the old pigeon man has found out where Vostok is holed up."

"And if he hasn't?" Race asked as he began to put his Sig back together.

"Then let's enjoy Prague's nightlife. Shit, after the last twenty-four hours I can use a temporary reprieve and I imagine you could as well. Down a few glasses of Absinth and you'll never feel that bullet wound ever again."

"Maybe we'll run into Jade while we're out." Race added as he finished assembling his weapon.

"Only you, Bannon, would want to get with a woman that cracked you in the head with a baton then taunted you as you lie bleeding in an dirty alley." Phil joked.

"You have a thing for the bookworm, Renaissance artsy ladies, Phil. I like the ones with some feistiness to their personas."

Laughing Phil said, "At least the women I'm attracted to don't try to kill me on the first date."

Pointing at his partner as he headed for the door, Race said, "As far as you know." Then as he opened the door he said, "I'll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes."

"See you then." Phil said as he removed his suit jacket and pulled at his tie, preparing to get into something more comfortable for the evening. Before Race left, Phil called out his name, "Hey, Bannon."

Turning towards the other I-1 Agent's voice, Race said, "Yeah?"

"Thanks, partner. I kind of needed that."

Race smiled and gave the other man a nod, "No problem, Phil. Now let's go get some drinks to honor your fallen comrades."

Phil smiled, "Sounds like a plan."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So glad that you could join us, comrade." Vostok growled as Doctor Arman exited the vehicle. He had driven to the desolate farmhouse where General Vostok had set up his base of operations.

"I barely made it out of there, Vostok." Arman replied with a bit of defiance in his voice. "Your man was not very good at doing his job."

"You made it out of there alive, yes? I would say he did his job just fine, Askar." Vostok replied, his face growing dark. "You are not in a position to question the loyalty and dedication of one of my Russian brothers."

Arman gulped nervously, his sudden spike of courage at facing Vostok vanishing completely at the General's words. "I did not mean it like that, Sir."

Vostok dismissed Arman's statement with a wave of his hand, changing the subject. "I trust you at least brought the rest of the agent with you."

"I did," Arman moved to the back of the van, opening it to reveal a metal case, similar to an ammunition can. "They are inside here."

Vostok grinned. Colonel Yasimov motioned to one of his men, who moved forward to secure the can. "Take it inside." The Colonel ordered. The guard nodded and did as instructed.

"Now, Doctor, please to follow me inside. We need to discuss the plan for tomorrow evening."

"Tomorrow evening?" Arman replied, "I thought,"

"There has been a change of plans, Doctor. For now we need to test your new creation to ensure it is as effective as you claim."

"If that woman hadn't of stolen my sample we could have already done so." Arman grumbled as he followed Vostok and the Colonel inside.

"Yes, well, things happen." Vostok laughed maliciously under his breath. "I am giving you the opportunity to make amends for your foolhardy choices as of late."

Stopping just inside the farmhouse, Arman peered cautiously at Vostok's back. "What are you saying, General? I've fulfilled my part of the deal, so where is my payment?"

Vostok stopped, then slowly turned back to face the old scientist. Clasping his hands behind his back, Vostok glared at Arman for so long the other man began to shift nervously once again. Finally Vostok replied, "You will receive your payment once I say so, Askar."

Shaking his head, Arman stammered, "No, I want it now."

Arman caught the subtle nod from the General to Yasimov, but before he could react his arms were seized from behind and yanked with a vicious force behind his back. Crying out in pain, Arman proclaimed, "What are you doing, Vostok?"

"Ensuring you continue to do as you are told, Doctor." Vostok sneered. "Once the device is ready you will carry out one final act before you receive your payment."

"Stop this!" Arman cried as he struggled uselessly against the Colonel's grasp.

"Oh, but you will enjoy this, Doctor. One last act against those that snubbed you and your work all those years ago."

"No, I do not want any more part of this. I don't need payment, just let me go." Arman pleaded.

His desperate cries fell on death ears. "Take him away, Colonel. Ensure he remains under constant supervision until he is needed."

"Yes, Sir." Yasimov replied as he yanked Arman so hard, the man was almost lifted from his feet. "It will be my pleasure."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Corbin frowned as he slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. Standing on the Charles Bridge next to Race, the cool evening breeze whipped past the two men as onlookers and tourists continued along the famous bridge, eager to enjoy whatever festivities they had planned.

"He's not answering the phone I gave him." Phil placed his hands in his jacket pockets as he looked at Race.

"He probably hasn't found anything yet." Race offered.

"You wouldn't think it would be hard to find a bunch of Russian ex-soldiers running around this place. They'd stick out like sore thumbs."

"Maybe we got them all." Race suggested.

Phil snorted, "You're good, Bannon, but you're not that good. Vostok has an small army surrounding him. It'll take more than a couple of shootouts with them to eliminate his gang."

"So what now?" Race asked. "I'm starving." The evening was growing late and Race suddenly realized he hadn't eaten anything all day.

Phil shrugged as he looked across the water. "I'm open to suggestions."

About to throw out a few ideas, Race was cut off. "What are you boys up to tonight?"

Turning towards the familiar voice, Race saw Jade had sauntered up next to him. Even as the temperature on the cold November night continued to drop, Jade appeared unfazed by the briskness in the air. She was dressed in tight, form fighting slacks, a low-cut emerald green top that showed off her womanly assets, and an unbuttoned light, black leather jacket. She had a small purse in one hand and her other hand was resting carefree on her hip. Race snapped his mouth shut when he realized he was gawking at the sight of her.

"What do you want, Jade?" Phil asked, but Race could tell the other man was also taken aback by the woman.

Jade smiled seductively at the two men and replied, "Just out for a night on the town. After that craziness this morning at Askar's place I needed a drink."

"Why'd you take off on me?" Race questioned as Jade's statement brought him back to reality.

Shrugging, Jade replied, "It was crazy. I'm not used to working my trade when so many bullets are flying back and forth." Making a show of glancing around casually, she asked. "So what's going on here? You two waiting for someone?"

"We were just leaving actually." Phil replied.

"I see," Jade purred.

"I'm ready to get something to eat and maybe a few drinks as well." Race suggested.

"Mind some extra company?" Jade grinned as she slipped an arm through Race's then smiled at Corbin. "I know how you much you must love hanging out with Phil here, but he can be so stuffy at times."

Phil rolled his eyes. "You really enjoy pushing my buttons, don't you?"

"You make it so easy." Jade smiled. "But I know a great little place off the beaten path. You two will enjoy it."

"Phil, come on." Race said, seeing his partner's agitation.

Phil shook his head as his phone beeped. Retrieving it from his pocket, he read the text message, then placed the phone away.

"What is it?" Race asked, dropping Jade's arm.

"Nothing," Phil said. "It's not Pavel." Sighing he looked at his two companions then said, "Look I'm going to head back to the hotel. I'm tired and I have some paperwork to do, thanks to you, Race. So why don't you two go out and enjoy yourselves."

"What? Come on, Corbin." Race protested since it was Phil's idea to go out in the first place.

"I don't want to be the third wheel." Phil smiled. "Seriously, go on. Just be ready to go first thing in the morning. There's a lot to do before the symposium which starts at six tomorrow night."

Race sighed, but acquiesced. "Alright. You're sure?"

Phil smiled, "I'm sure. Just try to stay out of trouble and not shoot anyone tonight." Slapping Race on the shoulder, Phil gave Jade a look then headed off, blending in with the crowd of passer-bys within seconds.

Race watched him go, then turned back to Jade. "Why do you give him so much crap?"

Jade chuckled lightly, "Because he needs to lighten up, he's always so serious."

"Yeah, but, that's just how he is." Race countered.

"Look, handsome, do you want to stand here talking about Phil Corbin all night or do you want to go have some fun? Besides, if you really think he's going back to the hotel to do paperwork, you've got a long way to go in being able to read people."

Taking her by the arm, the couple started to walk off in the direction of Jade's destination. "What's that supposed to mean? If he got a lead, he'd tell me."

Jade rolled her eyes, smiled, then patted Race's forearm. "Believe me, Race, he definitely left to meet someone, but not a lead."

Race smirked and mumbled, "I see. Slick, Corbin, real slick." Inclining his head towards Jade he said, "So what's this place you're taking me to?"

Jade smiled, "Oh just a little hole in the wall restaurant. Trust me, the food is great and you're going to need your strength for what I have planned for the rest of the evening."

Race grinned at the implication as he allowed Jade to lead the way.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**

 **A/N: MI = Military Intelligence; Corbin's basic branch in the Army.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 8**

Race grunted as he slowly opened his eyes. He felt the warmth of the morning sun as it shone through the hotel room's windows, but he squinted against the brightness that accentuated his throbbing headache that pounded painfully in his skull as he became more and more awake.

He had spent the entire evening, and well into the morning hours, with the very seductive and very sexy Jezebel Jade. It was only now, as he woke up, that he realized he had probably drank more than he should have, but the alcohol had not washed away the memories of his other nocturnal activities.

Smiling as he sat up, he looked around his room, but found that he was alone. "Figures." He mumbled as he kicked off his bed covers and reached for his watch. Glancing at the time, he saw that it was already after Ten A.M.

"Shit," He exclaimed as he scrambled out of the bed. Naked, he headed for the bathroom, realizing he had to get ready quickly as Corbin was probably already pissed that Race was late. As the effects of the alcohol seemed to wear off, Race wondered why the other I-1 agent hadn't checked in on him yet, but he quickly remembered that Phil had gone off on his own as well, and where the other man had ended up for the evening Race wasn't sure, even though he had some ideas.

By the time Race made it down to the lobby it was quarter past Eleven. Looking around at the handful of patrons he did not recognize anyone.

Making his way towards the front desk, Race smiled at the older woman behind the counter. "Any messages left for me?"

"One moment," The woman replied. Then, "Yes, there is one." She handed him the envelope and he smiled in appreciation as he took it and turned away.

 _Thanks for the thrills last night. See you at the Symposium. Jade_

Race grinned as he read the short message and recalled the time he had spent with Jade only a few hours ago. Lost in thought, he didn't see or hear Phil approach him from the side.

"You're grinning like a fucking idiot." Phil said.

Race blinked at the words, then shook his head and jammed the note in his pocket. "Sorry, was just thinking about something."

"Yeah," Phil replied. "I bet you were."

"How'd that paperwork go last night?" Race teased his partner in return.

Phil shot him a surprised look then laughed, "You should learn to mind your own business, Bannon."

Shrugging Race played it off, "What? I was just asking about the paperwork."

"Where did you and Jade end up?" Phil asked. "Your room or hers?"

"Now whose the one that needs to mind his own business?" Race laughed.

"You look hung over as shit." Phil said.

"I think I might of had a few too many that's for sure." He spoke as Phil's statement brought the dull pounding back into Race's head. He imagined his eyes were still bloodshot as well, a combination of being hung over and not sleeping most of the night.

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one, however if we're done reminiscing about last night, you mind if we get to work? We are still supposed to be trying to stop a madman from killing a bunch of innocent people, ya know."

"Jade was right, you do need to lighten up, Phil." Race joked as the two men headed outside.

"Fucking unbelievable," Phil grumbled, "she's got you busting my balls as well."

" Yep, definitely need to lighten up." Race laughed. "So where are we headed?"

"I'm assuming you just got up, so let's go eat then we have to get our tuxedos for the Symposium." Phil explained.

"So your contact got us on the guest list?" Race asked.

"Yes," Phil replied. "You see, I did spend some time actually working last night."

"Only _some_ time?" Race laughed. "Your contact, what's her name?"

"Her name is none of your business." Phil said.

"Any word from the pigeon man?"

Phil shook his head, "Nothing. I went by there this morning, but he wasn't there. The old married couple is gone as well. I don't like it, Race. This situation gives me a bad feeling."

"You think they've been found out?" Race asked. "They all seemed so careful."

"I know, so I hope not. That's the problem with these types of operations. A contact may be there to help with one piece of information one day, but called away the next and we never find out about it."

"You think that's what happened to them?"

"I hope that's what happened to them. The alternative isn't ideal."

"Agreed." Race nodded. Thinking back to the note, Race decided that even though it appeared Phil knew of Race's evening with Jade, he didn't want to bring up the fact that the woman had mentioned she'd be at the Symposium as well; he'd find out soon enough.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Is everything ready?" Vostok inquired.

Peter stood to address his superior, "It is, General. I'm just finishing the last few wires on the harness."

"What about the bio-agent? You're positive the detonation will cause it to spread and not destroy it?"

Peter nodded, "Doctor Arman's creation is quite resilient from what I can tell. The blast will not destroy it. The beauty of it is that it will spread in such a way that those who are initially infected will spread it to those that respond. By the time any survivors realize they are infected the bacterium will have spread beyond the point where any type of treatment would be effective."

"One hundred percent fatal." Vostok mused.

Peter nodded, "Yes and General, I have a suggestion as well."

"What is it?" The bald man asked.

"A failsafe, just in case." Peter set to explaining his idea to the General, whose face shone with excitement at the bomb makers words.

"Yes, yes." Vostok said after Peter was finished. "Very good thinking indeed, comrade. Now, finish your work and I will go speak to Doctor Arman and let him know about your suggestion. Ensure the bomb is ready within the hour. The Symposium's opening keynote speaker will be on stage promptly at six-thirty."

"Yes, General." Peter replied then returned to his work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Doctor Arman paced nervously in small bedroom that currently served as his makeshift cell. He'd been held prisoner by Vostok since the evening prior when he had arrived at the farmhouse and no one, save the guards, had come to speak to him.

Currently, an armed guard stood in front of the only exit door and watched the Doctor with an unconcerned look. Any thoughts that Askar had of escape were dashed when he realized that the young men that rotated guarding him were all much younger and stronger than he. They were also fiercely loyal to General Vostok and no amount of convincing speech would sway them to assist him. He glanced out the window, but since they had locked him up on the second floor there was no way his old body could manage a plunge from the window and not come away severely beaten and damaged, if not downright dead.

Askar halted in his frantic pacing when he heard the doorknob turn. Stepping aside, the guard moved as the door opened and Askar watched with dread as General Vostok and Colonel Yasimov entered.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Arman pleaded. "I've done everything you've asked."

"And you will do one more thing, Askar." Vostok grinned. "But I need some insurance that you will do as instructed, comrade."

Askar's eyes widened when he saw the needle in Colonel Yasimov's grip. "What are you doing?" He gulped as he stepped backwards, but there was nowhere for him to go.

"You know your instructions for this evening, yes?" Vostok asked.

Arman's headed bobbed up and down, "Yes, yes, of course."

Vostok inclined his head towards Yasimov, "This will ensure, for me, that you carry out your orders and do not run to the authorities."

"I would never do that, General. You can trust me." Arman's plea came out as a whimper as he watched Yasimov step forward with the syringe.

"It is not a matter of trust, comrade. It is a matter of making sure you do as you are told. When you succeed you will be remembered for your deeds and your works. All of mother Russia will know your name, Doctor Askar Arman."

Askar stared at the General, mouth agape. "You're insane. I see that now."

"Says the man that created his own plague." Vostok laughed. "Proceed, Colonel. It is time for Doctor Arman to get ready for the ball."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tugging as his collar, Race grumbled, "I hate tuxedos."

Race stepped into the entrance of the Aria Hotel and marveled at the building. Its grandness dazzling within its historical architecture and elegant decor. Earlier in the afternoon, Race had done some quick reading on the place, mainly in an attempt to learn its layout an had discovered the hotel had a rich history that dated back all the way to when Prague was the capital of the Kingdom of Bohemia. It was, to say the least, an interesting place to hold a biodefense conference, but as he studied the rest of the guests that mingled about the lobby he realized that just because they were scientists, researchers, professors, and doctors some seem to exude an air of snobbish superiority over people like Race.

"You could at least try to fit in, you know." Phil said as he watched Race tug at his collar again. Both men were dressed in tuxes and both men were also armed.

"Like I said before, this is the part of the job I can't get used to." Race countered.

"You said that about the politicking aspect."

"Same thing." Race grunted a laugh. "Where's the bar?"

"You're a regular James Bond." Phil laughed. Following the crowd of scientists, they made their way to the hall that was reserved specifically for the conference and the opening dinner and speech.

Race's attention was drawn to the sounds of forced laughter, looking in that direction he saw four men gathered around Jade. She was dressed in an elegant black evening gown that ended just above her knees and hugged her curves. The black dress drew out the silkiness of her porcelain skin and her short, dark hair was made up in such a fashion as to accent the beauty in the soft, but also experienced features in her face and dark green orbs.

"Excuse me, boys," Jade purred as she saw Race enter. "My date has arrived."

Race watched as the men turned and glared at him. "I'm suddenly the most envious man here." Race choked as Jade made her way towards him.

"Hello, Gentlemen." Jade smiled as she met the I-1 Agents. "Fancy seeing you here."

Phil rolled his eyes, but smiling he said, "I'm not even going to ask."

"You're finally learning, Phil." Jade laughed as she patted her hand gently on his cheek. "They say this is the place to be this evening."

"I'm going to go find the bar." Phil said and headed off.

Jade looped her arms around Race's neck and proceeded to plant a delicate kiss on his lips. "Good to see you so soon, handsome."

"You took off on me again." Race smiled as he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her close.

"Get used to that, Bannon." Jade said before giving him another kiss then untangling her arms from him. "Buy me a drink?"

"What are you doing here anyways?" Race asked as he led her towards the bar.

"Working."

"You didn't get what you were looking for from Arman's safe yesterday?" Race asked, showing he knew that she had left him during the firefight for other reasons.

Jade smiled coyly at him, "Don't start asking questions like that, Race. Just know that, for right now, we're both on the same side."

"I hope so." Race grumbled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thirty minutes later and mingling as best as he knew how, Race began to relax as the Symposium guests filtered in and out of the hall, socializing with each other in regards to their respective fields. He'd already overheard two conversations about quantum physics; a debate about the validating of a new project NASA was working on; a claim that the cure of the common cold would be found within the next ten years; and an argument about which biological agent would create the most devastation in a large urban area and how the results of such an attack would be fascinating.

Jade still clung to his side, swatting away eager men when they came in to make a pass at the young woman. "This is starting to bore me." Jade moaned as she motioned for the bartender for another drink.

Race scanned the crowd and saw Phil speaking with two women. "Who do you think Phil is talking to over there?"

Jade followed Race's gaze and saw Corbin speaking with two women, a blonde and a brunette. She could tell the man's attention was focused on the brunette; if Jade knew anything it was how to read a man' true intentions within seconds. "That's probably his 'lead' from last night." She smiled as they watched the blonde woman move off, leaving Phil and the brunette alone.

"Oh really?" Race grinned as he saw the blonde rejoin the duo and few minutes later. "Good for him."

Race noticed that the blonde woman must have said something that set Phil off because Race saw his partner straighten, then after a few more words, scan the room. As their eyes met, Phil nodded towards him and setting his drink down on the bar's countertop, Race said, "Come on, something's up."

"Finally." Jade breathed as a commotion drew their attention towards the entrance of the hall just moments before the gunshot.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sweat drenched his shirt as Doctor Arman entered the hotel and made his way towards the hall where the Symposium guests had assembled. He had waited, as instructed, until the majority of the people were inside the hall before he made his way inside.

Hefting the heavy black gym bag in his hand, Askar said a silent prayer for forgiveness for what he was about to do. His entire life had been dedicated to science and the pursuit of knowledge and only now, as his life was about to come to an end, had he realized that he had wasted his talents on evil instead of good.

If he could run away he would, but he knew he couldn't. Vostok, or at least one of his cronies, was watching. And even if that wasn't true, what did it matter? Vostok had made sure that Askar would never live to tell his tale. He had doomed him to the same fate as those within the hall; the best scientific minds in the world were all about to be wiped out and for nothing more than the sake of a test run.

Walking through the doors into the hall, Askar dropped the bag to the floor then pulled the two doors shut behind him. Quickly he reached down, opened the bags and withdrew a large metal chain and lock. He proceed to run the chain through the handles of the door, sealing the fate of everyone inside, including himself.

"What are you doing?"

Askar turned towards the voice. A man, probably in his early forties, with a hawkish nose and thinning hair had come up to Askar's side. He hadn't even bothered to set his drink down. The sight of the man sent a flurry of new emotions through the Kazakhstani; the man didn't even see Askar's actions as enough of a threat to place his drink on a table; Askar hated him immediately.

"I said, what are you doing, old man?" The man said again as he took a step towards the scientist.

"Unfortunately, you are the lucky one here." Askar sneered as he secured the chain with the lock.

"Excuse me?"

Turning towards his confronter, Askar unzipped his heavy jacket and the sight of him made the man's eyes go wide with terror. However, before the man could fully react, Arman pulled a semi-automatic handgun, provided by Vostok, from behind his back and fired.

The round hit him in the chest, dropping him to the floor. Askar smiled as the man finally let go of his drink.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you again for the last minute invitation, Alena." Phil said as he took a sip of his drink. As he was scanning the room, he had seen the Czech MP and her friend, Doctor Rachel Quest, as they mingled with the crowd.

"Of course," Alena replied. "And I'm glad I did since you just rescued us from those dastardly, boring old men over there." She nodded her head in the direction of two overweight scientists who had earlier cornered the two women in order to engage them in conversation about marine biology and the mating rituals of whales.

Phil smiled, "The conversation appeared to be taking a turn for the worst."

"That it was." Rachel laughed. "I should go check on Jonny before my husband takes the stage. Sometimes I fear he drives his caregivers to the brink of insanity with his unending stream of energy. Besides, I should let you two, how do you say, catch up?" Rachel winked at Alena who blushed in response.

"Rachel!" Alena gasped.

Phil chuckled. He'd heard that Rachel was definitely the more out-going and spur of the moment of the Quests and she for sure wasn't shy; her antics now were proving just that.

"I've always told Alena, even back in college, that she needs to act more spontaneously, you know, live in the moment. It appears she finally took my advice." Rachel said with a playfulness that was impossible to get angry over. She gave Corbin a once over look, as if approving of her friend's impulsive choice in men.

Alena covered her eyes and lowered her head, "Oh my god."

"I'll only be a few minutes." Rachel beamed and made her way towards one of the rear doors of the hall before her companions could protest.

"I'm sorry about that, Phil." Alena said once her friend was gone. "I swear I didn't say anything to her about...us."

"It's alright." He smiled kindly, "She seems to be quite perceptive." He seemed to take the entire account in stride, not making a big deal about it all, which set Alena at ease.

"She's so intelligent, yet so carefree. That woman... I love her like a sister." Alena declared.

A moment later Rachel returned. "That was odd."

"What's wrong?" Phil asked, immediately keying in on the woman's dismay.

"I tried going through the back since it's closer to the stairwell to head up to our room, but both of the rear doors were locked."

"What?" Phil tensed then immediately looked for Race.

"What is it?" Alena asked when she saw his response.

"Those are fire exits, they shouldn't be locked." Phil replied. "Hang on."

As the crowd continued to socialize, Phil saw Race at the bar. Motioning to him, he went to take a step forward when her heard commotion coming from the entryway moments before a gunshot rang out in the hall.

A second of perplexed silence filled the hall before the screams and shouts of confusion erupted.

"Get down." Phil ordered to the women as he reached around his back and withdrew his sidearm.

"What's happening?" Alena was startled, reaching for the comforting arms of her friend, Rachel.

"Find some place to hide, quick." Phil said; their faces immediately flushed with fright.

"Be careful, please." Alena breathed as she reached out to grab Phil's arm.

Phil gave Alena a brief look of comfort then pushed past the startled and frightened symposium attendees he made his way to the where the gunshot had come; from his peripheral vision he saw Race doing the same.

As the crowd pushed backwards and cowered, looking for somewhere to hide behind them, Race and Phil moved forward. Coming upon the source of the scare, both men leveled their weapons at the threat.

"Drop the weapon." Race ordered as he came up to face Arman and cocked the hammer of his own firearm.

"No!" Askar replied. He didn't point the weapon at the men, but he did keep it in his hand.

Race's eyes drifted towards the man that Askar had supposedly shot; he was lying in a pool of his own blood, moaning weakly, but still alive. "Let us help him." Race said.

"It won't matter for him. It won't matter for any of you."

"Race, look." Phil breathed through gritted teeth as he nodded and moved cautiously towards his partner.

Race knew what Phil was talking about, Doctor Askar Arman was wearing a suicide vest under his jacket; the device was a network of intricate wires and blocks of explosives. From the bulge under the back of Arman's jacket, Race figured there was more to the bomb strapped to the scientist's back then could be seen.

"You don't want to do this, Doctor Arman." Phil tried to talk to the man down.

"I have to do this, Sir." Askar replied, his voice shaky.

"No you don't." Phil replied as he kept his weapon pointed at Askar's forehead. "Put the gun down and we can help you."

Askar laughed, "You have no idea what you're up against. This is my own creation."

"What are you talking about?" Race asked.

"These people," Askar jerked his chin forward indicating the scientists that currently cowered behind the two I-1 agents. Some attempted to open the rear doors that Rachel Quest had tried previously, but they found the doors locked. Everyone in the room was trapped. "They have no idea what this is about. They came here to talk about biodefense, but now, when faced with a real biological threat they run away like the cowards they truly are."

"Askar, stop this." Phil said, "these people are innocent."

"Not they aren't!" Askar screamed while partially raising his firearm at Phil. Race noted to the other man's credit that Phil did not react to the taunt. If they shot Askar they had no idea if it would set off the bomb or not. "They mocked us! Mocked the Soviet Union and caused our downfall. We could have destroyed all of you! We WILL destroy all of you now!"

Race could here whimpered cries from the people behind him, but he pushed the sounds from his mind and focused. "This isn't necessary, don't do this."

Askar's features slackened, "I must do this, Sir. I must."

"No, you don't have to." Phil replied. "Let us help you."

Askar looked at him and spat, "I would never accept help from Americans."

Phil ignored the taunt, "Vostok is making you do this, Doctor. Don't you see? He's using you. He's too much of a coward to do this himself so he uses you, just like his people have always used your people. Don't let him win."

Arman paused momentarily as if Phil's words had gotten through, but then he replied. "Vostok has killed me already. I just want my children to be proud."

"This is not the way to make them proud, Askar." Phil said. Race kept his weapon trained on Askar and watched as Phil gave him a subtle nod. Race returned the gestured then focused back on the deranged scientist.

Using his thumb, Phil slowly moved the hammer forward on his weapon, de-cocking it. Then in a show of trust, he parted his hands, weapon still in his right hand, and flicked the safety back to the ON position. "Look, Askar, I'm putting my gun away," Phil said, keeping the scientist's attention on himself. He reached behind his back and holstered the gun, then spread his hands again, showing Askar his hands were now empty. "Please, let us help. No one has to die today."

Arman heaved a heavy sigh and Race saw tears welling up in the man's eyes. "We all have to die today, Sir." He replied.

"No we don't, Askar," Phil said and took a step forward, "Let these people go. We can remove that vest and get you help. And you can help us get Vostok and make him pay for doing this to you."

"You don't get it," Askar shouted back as he stomped his foot. "I'm a dead man." He raised the handgun and pointed it at Phil.

Race tensed and took aim at the man as soon as Arman raised his pistol, but Corbin waved him off. Race saw the old Kazakhstani's eyes darting back and forth between himself and Phil. "Askar, focus on me." Phil was saying, "Don't worry about him."

"Tell him to put his weapon down." Askar demanded.

Corbin shook his head, "I can't do that, Doctor, you know that. He's doing it to protect me; to protect all of these people." Corbin made a deliberate sweeping gesture towards the people behind him. "But if you put your weapon down I promise I will order him to put his down as well."

Doctor Arman sighed again then took a step backwards.

"Phil, I can take him out." Race stated so both his superior and Arman could hear.

Shaking his head, Phil replied as he kept his eyes on the scientist, "No, don't. He's going to put his weapon down and let us help him. Right, Doctor Arman?"

"I didn't know," Askar whined, his eyes shifting, no longer focused on Corbin. He lowered his weapon, but only slightly. "I didn't know what he had planned. If I did,"

"Don't worry about that, Askar." Phil said, seeing he was beginning to lose the other man. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that we need you to help us stop Vostok from doing this. From hurting innocent people. Not only these people here, but the rest of the people in this hotel. Askar, there are children in this hotel."

The wired up scientist lowered his head for a moment, then raised it back up, looking between the two Intelligence One Agents. "You think this is it, Sir?"

"What do you mean?" Phil asked, genuinely confused.

"You think this is Vostok's grand plan?" Askar paused, then let of a pained laughed. "This is nothing. This is a test run." As if to drive his point home, Askar pulled a device from the front of his suicide vest with his free hand and depressed the plunger.

"What does that mean?" Phil asked as he watched Askar activate the vest, knowing he was running out of both time and options.

"It means we are all just test subjects, Sir." Askar replied as he shook his hand that held the plunger.

"Phil, this is dragging," Race muttered.

"Shoot me now and this bomb denotes." Askar laughed. "As soon as I release the button then BOOM!" Askar said the last word with an evil laugh that the I-1 men had yet to see. "Then we all die and you best pray that the explosion kills you, Sir."

Phil shook his hands at Race then turned his attention back to Arman, "What are you saying, Doctor?"

"I'm saying this is just the beginning." Askar grinned as he raised the handgun again.

"No!" Phil shouted as he lunged at the Kazakhstani.

"We all must die now." Askar declared then closed his eyes and fired.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 9**

"I'm saying this is just the beginning." Askar grinned as he raised the handgun again.

"No!" Phil shouted as he lunged at the Kazakhstani.

"We all must die now." Askar declared. Sticking the barrel of the pistol under his chin, Askar closed his eyes as he squeezed the trigger, the round expelled from the barrel in a heartbeat and ripped through the disgraced scientist's head, exploding out the back of his skull.

Race froze, the sight before him both shockingly unbelievable and painfully predictable at the same time. As if in slow motion, he watched as the bullet tore through Arman's brain, his life vacating his body at the exact same moment as the bullet ripped him apart.

Race gasped, realizing that Askar's suicide also doomed them all. He tried to move, but couldn't; transfixed in his spot, unable to react, only able to watch as the Kazakhstani's eyes rolled into the back of his head, the pistol falling from his hand as his life vacated his body.

"Look out!"

Race heard the shout, but it didn't register at first. He'd seen a lot in his time, but never this; never a man wearing a suicide vest and depressing a plunger that, if released, would detonate the bomb and kill them all suddenly putting the barrel of a gun under his chin and squeezing the trigger. Looking at his partner, he saw shock and pain blanketed across Corbin's face. He had tried to talk Askar down, but had failed; witnessing the result of that failure had immediately affected Phil just as it had Race.

Jade dove at the exact moment that Askar fired; having snuck up to the man's side as he was distracted by the I-1 Agents. She had seen the opportunity at the very second it happened and reacted; diving towards the man in one last attempt to save everyone that was trapped in the hotel.

Before Askar's thumb moved, Jade clamped both her hands around his and the plunger. She fell with Askar, her body hitting the floor just as his did as well. Keeping her mind focused, she kept her hands pressed firmly against the dead man's hand and thefore plunger. She averted her eyes from Askar's face which was torn apart by the bullet that he had fired in one last ditch attempt to absolve himself of his sins.

"Do something!" Jade shouted as she rolled on the ground with the dead man.

Her words managed to snap Race from his momentary daze; shaking the cloudiness from his mind he took in the situation and scrambled forward towards Jade and what was left of Doctor Arman.

"Be careful! Keep clear of his blood." A voice stated.

Race heard the statement, but he couldn't place the voice, he'd never heard the speaker before. Inhaling and exhaling, Race focused his thoughts as he examined the bomb. Looking towards Jade he said, "No matter what happens, do NOT let go of his hand."

"I hadn't planned on it." Jade replied, her voice even but Race could tell she was scared.

Looking at Phil, who stood over them taking in the scene, Race ordered, "I need to disarm this device. Move these people to safety now."

"There's nowhere for them to go," Phil countered, Race's orders shaking the other man from his dazed state. "We're locked in."

"Figure it out, Phil!" Race shouted before turning his attention to the bomb on the dead man's back. Pulling back on Arman's jacket in order to expose the device, he was at least thankful that it appeared to be victim operated versus on a timer, but that meant he had to rely on Jade to keep the plunger depressed until he could diffuse the bomb. This was one of Race's areas of expertise, however what really made him nervous was the strange canister that was attached to the bomb, a canister that he assumed contained the bio-agent that Askar would have released if he had detonated.

"Move back." Phil ordered as he turned away from Race and Jade, ordering the scared and worried onlookers to keep their distance.

Alena and the Quests came forward. Benton spoke, "Phil, from what he said, it sounds like he was infected. Do not let your man touch his blood."

Phil nodded, but he was unsure how to stop Race from doing just that.

Benton looked at the man that Doctor Arman had shot in the initial attack then back at Phil. Rachel's gaze followed her husband's before she said, "Let me help him, Agent Corbin. I'm probably the only medical doctor in here."

Phil looked back briefly at Arman's first victim then back at Rachel. He nodded and Rachel moved over to examine him. A moment later she said with remorse, "He's gone."

"Get them back, Phil." Race growled again as he studied the bomb. "I can't work with all these people around."

"Please move back." Corbin pleaded with his hands raised in an attempt to block the frightened onlookers again. He turned his gaze towards Alena, who immediately saw the desperation in his eyes. "Alena, help me move these people back, please." He request of her.

Nodding she turned and stood next to him. With a firm, but also sympathetic tone she announced, "Everyone, move back, please. Give these people room to work. I promise you'll be safe, but they need you to cooperate so they can do what needs to be done."

Her words must have gotten through to the group as the wave of onlookers swarmed backwards. Phil gave the Czech woman a smile which she returned in kind. "Thanks."

"Of course," Alena nodded as she placed her hands on his forearm and gave him a hopeful squeeze, "Now just make sure we get out of this alive, Phil."

Nodding, Phil turned back towards Race and asked, "What do you need?"

"I need to be able to see." Race grumbled. "This is a victim-activated device. If the plunger is released we all die."

"I guarantee that won't happen, Bannon." Jade stated with such determination that Race believed the woman would die before she let go.

"Arman's blood may be infected as well." Phil said as he removed his personal belongings from the inside pockets of his jacket and shoved them into his pants pockets. Removing the jacket, Phil draped it over Askar's face, both as a means to soak up the blood, but also give a small amount of dignity to the dead man.

Pulling his bowtie off, tossing it aside then unbuttoning the top of his shirt, Phil stated, "I hate tuxedoes."

Race laughed grimly as his friend restated his own proclamation from earlier in the evening; earlier that suddenly felt like a lifetime ago. "I need more light." Race stated. "Help me get him up." Looking over at Jade, Race instructed. "Keep holding his hand down as we move him. No matter what, do not let that plunger move."

Jade nodded, "Got it."

"Let's move him onto that table." Race pointed at a nearby table that was located under one of the overhead lights.

"Clear that table off." Phil shouted then heard the rustling of the items being strewn aside.

"We have to move quickly." Race said as he removed his own jacket and bowtie. Rolling up his sleeves with a quickness, he then hooked his arms under Askar's shoulders, trying his best to keep from touching the dead man's bodily fluids.

Phil crouched down and grabbed the corpse's legs then looked at Race. "On your mark."

Race nodded as he turned to Jade. "We're going to lift him on the count of three. Like I said, do not let that plunger slip."

Jade kept a firm grip around the plunger and Askar's hand. Nodding she said, "Just get a move on, handsome."

Race looked Phil in the eyes and said, "On three. One...two...three." As he said the last number, the two men lifted Askar's prone body and moved him over to the table, placing the corpse face down upon it.

"Now what?" Phil asked once they had placed Arman's body under the light.

"I need a tool. A Gerber...Leatherman...pliers...something." Race stated.

Jade jerked her head, "My purse. My tools are in there."

Phil couldn't help but smirk at Jade's reply, but he kept his comments to himself. Hearing the other woman's statement, Alena rushed over and retrieved Jade's purse from where she had dropped it. Handing it over to Phil, the I-1 Agent opened it, rummaged through its contents, then withdrew a Leatherman from inside. Opening the multi-tool, he handed it over to Race who nodded his thanks.

"Can't we just remove the bomb from his body and disarm it outside once we figure out how to get the doors open? " Phil asked as he watched Race trace the wires.

Shaking his head, Race pointed at a pair of wires that ran along the shoulder straps of the device. "You see those wires? He's been booby-trapped."

"What for?" Phil asked.

"If we try to remove the vest a secondary circuit will activate. It's like a failsafe they must have worked in to prevent him from removing the bomb and going to the authorities. Sick bastards." Race responded. Wiping the perspiration from his brow he explained. "If I can deactivate the primary device, which includes the trigger that activates the release of the bio-agent, then the secondary trip wire is no problem. Just give me some breathing room."

Phil nodded, "Got it."

"How you doing, Jade?" Race asked, keeping his voice even to remain calm.

"I'm okay for now, just hurry up, alright?"

Race nodded as he focused on the bomb, his mind running a number of possible scenarios at once in order to determine just exactly how he needed to proceed.

Phil stood by and watched, as did everyone else in the hall; knowing that Bannon was their only hope of survival. Reaching into his pocket he withdrew his cell phone and saw there was no signal. Turning towards Alena, who once again was at his side, he asked. "Do you have a cell signal?"

As she checked her cell, Phil could tell by her confused expression that she did not. "Stay here." He instructed and moved over towards the doors that Arman had chained shut. Rummaging in the gym bag, Phil found what he was looking for. Arman had used a signal jammer to block the people inside from calling for aid. He had to assume that no help was on the way.

Out of the corner of his eye, Race saw his partner moving towards the door. "Don't turn that off!" Race ordered as soon as he saw the small box in Corbin's hand. "It could be a trick."

"I thought you said it was victim-activated." Phil said as he came up next to Race.

"Whoever made this bomb is good, like really good. I wouldn't be surprised if he wired in a tertiary trigger as well, one that's remotely activated. You turn that off, call for help, and boom. We're dead."

"So we're on our own." Phil remarked with a scowl. "It's up to you, Race."

"Yeah," Race turned his attention back to the bomb. "No pressure, right?"

"Just let me know what you need me to do."

"Keep these people calm and wish me luck, man."

With a nod, Phil moved back to stand with the others, hoping that Race's expertise and knowledge in explosives was about to pay off.

With a glance and a nod to Jade, Race picked up the multi-tool in one hand, while tracing the wires that wound through the device with the other. Cursing whoever made the bomb for using all the same color wires, Race breathed evenly as his fingers came upon three blocks of C4; more than enough to destroy the hotel and kill everyone inside, not to mention spreading the contents of the canister across the entire block.

Race turned his attention to the canister and studied that portion of the bomb as well. He'd disarmed enough explosives, both in training and real world missions, but never one that had a biological agent attached to it. Tracing the path of the wires, he saw that the canister had been hardwired in with the C4, the explosion being enough to set it off. And even if that failed, Vostok had infected Arman directly as well, the man's blood already carrying the deadly concoction. Race assumed that the bio-agent was resilient enough to survive the blast, as well as infectious enough to spread through bodily fluid contact. Vostok wanted to ensure the agent spread, both through the explosion of the device and Arman's body.

"Sick fucker." Race mumbled as his fingers glided over the wires.

"Hurry up, Bannon." Jade muttered; he had been so focused on the bomb that he had momentarily forgotten about the woman.

Moving to her side, Race examined the plunger and the wires that let to it. "It'd be too simple to just severe the trigger from the bomb." He said then looked at her with both admiration and worry. "You'll have to keep holding on."

"Then stop pussyfooting around," Jade said with a forced laugh. "My fingers are starting to cramp."

Looking towards his partner, Race said, "Phil, find a flashlight and get over here."

With a nod, the other man grabbed Jade's purse again and found a small flashlight. Clicking it on he came over to Race's side. "Just tell me where to shine it."

Pointing at the path of wires going from the C4 to the canister, Race explained. "I think I need to cut those wires first, disable the circuit leading from the explosives to the bio-agent. "

"You think?" Phil raised an eyebrow towards him.

"It's the best I can surmise with the way this device is rigged. At least then the canister will be disabled."

"Then we only have the bomb itself to worry about." Phil said with tired amusement.

"One step at a time, partner." Race replied.

"Well get to it then." Jade threw in. "Like I said, my fingers are starting to cramp and I'd like to get out of here sometime soon as would everyone else for that matter. I actually have plans for the rest of the evening."

Race gave the woman a smile then turned back to the bomb. Pointing he said, "Hold the light there so I can see."

Phil nodded and did as told. Bending down, Race once again traced the wires with his thumb and index finger. Finding the right spot, he saddled closer and slid the clamps of the multi-tool over the wire. Taking a deep breath, Race hoped that he was right; if not in about half a second it wouldn't matter.

Holding the wire with his fingers of one hand, he slowly squeezed the multi-tool so it clamped down on the wire. Then with just enough pressure he squeezed again and the wire snipped in half.

Nothing happened. He exhaled and heard Phil standing over him do the same.

Working quickly, Race severed the wires from the two remaining blocks of C4. Once complete, he retraced the paths of the wires to ensure the canister was no longer connected to the bomb. Satisfied he had succeeded, he readjusted the tool and opened up the small screwdriver on the device.

"What are you doing?" Phil asked as he moved the light to assist Race's visibility.

"Removing the canister." Race replied, then added, "Just in case."

Corbin didn't need Race to say the rest, he knew what the white-haired man meant. Holding the light with one hand, he placed his other on the canister to support it.

Working the screws from the four points on the bracket, Race released the canister as Phil pulled it back away from the rest of the bomb. Both men breathed sighs of relief as the bio-agent was separated.

Race focused his attention back onto the booby-trapped portion of the vest. Coming over to Phil's side, Doctor Quest said, "Give it to me. I'll keep it safe until you two are finished."

Corbin nodded his thanks to the American scientist as he handed the canister over to the bearded man. He watched for a few seconds as Benton took the canister over towards one of the far corners of the room then waited with it, not letting anyone, even his wife, come close.

"I need to disconnect the trip wires then ensure the C4 is no longer wired in with the plunger. You doing alright, Jade?" Race said.

Nodding, Jade replied, "Just stop talking about it and do it."

Race set his attention back to his task. With the bio-agent gone, Race felt a surge of confidence return to his body as he got back to the situation at hand. He traced and cut the wires for the booby-trap then did the same once again for the wires running from the plunger to the explosives.

What had felt like an eternity had only been a matter of minutes. Stepping back, Race looked between the device and Jade; he could only hope that he'd cut the correct wires.

Phil clicked the flashlight off and looked at his partner. "Now what?"

Race gave the other man a look and leaned in close in order to whisper in his ear, "The moment of truth. Move these people as far back as possible."

Phil studied Race for a moment, "If things go wrong that's not going to matter, you know."

"It's just for their peace of mind. Get them behind the tables or something."

Nodding, Phil moved out and with Alena's assistance corralled the group of frightened people back to the far corner of the room, opposite where Benton sat with the canister. Giving Alena a smile, Phil spoke softly to her, "Stay with them, okay?"

Alena smiled back, astonished by the calm and tenderness in his voice. "Where are you going?"

Phil jerked his head towards Benton, "If we're about to die, I'm not letting him die alone."

"Let me go to him." Rachel said from Alena's side.

Phil shook his head, "No, Rachel. You two have to be apart, just in case. For your son's sake."

Rachel understood the Agent's meaning and even though she didn't like it, she agreed.

When he saw the agreement in Rachel's facial features he attempted to put on his most confident smile and said, "But you know something, Bannon's our best bomb tech, so I wouldn't fret too much."

As he moved to go, Alena placed a hand on his arm, grabbing his attention. As he looked into her eyes, she gave him a comforting smile, then leaned forward and kissed him quickly and softly on the lips. Smiling back at her, he winked then moved off towards Benton.

Alena and Rachel watched as the Agent sat down next to the scientist then said something to him which caused Benton to look over at the women and smile. "Just in case." Alena whispered as she watched the American Agent that she had previously spent the night with, having thrown all her reservations and inhabitations out the window and being spontaneous with Phil, just like her best friend, Rachel Quest, had always pushed her to be. She just hoped that the other I-1 Agent succeeded in his morbid task.

"We sure know how to pick 'em, don't we, Alena?" Rachel laughed nervously.

"That we do, hon." Alena agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Once the crowd was moved back and Race saw Phil go towards the isolated man in the corner, he moved over to Jade's side and wrapped his hands around hers. Looking up at him, Jade gave him a weary, but sexy smile. "This is it then, huh, Bannon?"

"Yep and I'm not leaving your side, so don't even say it, babe."

"Babe?" Jade laughed. "So it's like that now?"

"Let's just hope I was successful and we'll see where it goes."

"Race, if we don't die in the next five seconds I'm going to reward you handsomely for this later tonight."

Race grinned, "Well, let's hope we don't die then."

A silence fell over the pair as their gazes met and locked. Race leaned his head down and kissed Jade's lips with such passion that she almost let go of the plunger, only his own strong hands wrapped around hers kept her from doing so. Returning the kiss with just as much eagerness and passion as he had given her, all of Jade's fears and anxieties melted away; if they were about to die she would die content, embraced by a man she barely knew, but suddenly loved more than any man she'd ever known before.

Even though she never wanted the moment to end, their lips parted. Holding each other's stares, the couple breathed three deep breaths in unison, then Race said, "You ready?"

"Yes." Jade replied.

"Let go." Race kept his eyes open and continued to start into Jade's dazzling green orbs.

"Alright." Jade breathed and opened her hand at the exact same moment that Race let go as well. She felt the dead man's hand fall from the plunger and heard the distinct click of the button popping back up.

Jade was frozen in the moment, unable to tear her eyes away from Bannon. If they were in the mists of death she didn't know nor did she care. She let out a breath.

A breath that indicated she was alive.

Nothing happened.

Watching her lover's face, she saw the realization hit him as well as their eyes turned as one towards the dead man and the bomb that was strapped to his body; the bomb that Race had successfully made inert.

"You did it!" Jade exclaimed, jumping into his arms and wrapping her hands around his neck once again before planting a kiss on his lips.

Pulling away from the kiss, Race let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I sure did. In fact, we both did."

Jade pulled him in close again and as the two embraced they heard the sighs and cries of relief from the crowd of symposium guests whose lives they had just saved. They kissed again, this time with a passion that released all the tension and fear from the last few minutes of their lives.

"Damn, Bannon, as if I needed any more reasons to find you sexy as hell." Jade giggled as their lips parted.

Blushing, Race gave her another brief kiss before letting go and turning towards Corbin who had just come up to join them. "I expect a bonus for this one, Corbin." Race stated.

"I'll write the recommendation myself." Corbin laughed as he slapped Race on the shoulder. "Now we just have to get out of here. I need some air."

"We all do." Race agreed. "Let's get those doors unlocked."

"Right," Phil agreed as Race moved off to look for a means to break the lock.

Reaching over, Corbin placed a hand on Jade's upper arm, drawing the woman's attention to him. "Good work there, Jade. That was quick thinking on your part and pretty damn brave if you ask me."

Jade hesitated, surprised at the man's compliment. Perhaps she had figured Corbin wrong, perhaps he didn't despise her to the point that he couldn't stand to be around her. "Thanks, Phil. I just reacted that's all."

Phil nodded and said, "Well, you saved the lives of these people and everyone else in the entire hotel as well. So I just wanted to say thank you."

Jade gave him a genuine smile and replied, "You're welcome, Phil."

With a nod, the veteran I-1 Agent moved to the body of the man that Arman had shot. Jade watched Corbin kneel down next to the man to close his eyelids. The act filled Jade with sorrow; they hadn't been able to save everyone. Looking away, Jade headed over to where Race stood next to the chained doors.

"Can you pick this lock?" Race asked as Jade joined him.

"Bannon, there isn't a lock I can't pick." Jade replied before retrieving her purse and rejoining him at the door.

"Good because you mentioned something about a reward earlier." Race grinned.

"Calm down, tiger." Jade purred. "Let's get out of this room first. Then, well, then we can talk about that reward."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What has happened now?" Vostok slammed his fist on the wooden table, rattling it and its contents, making Peter flinch.

Colonel Yasimov had just reported that Doctor Arman had failed in his mission. Nikolai shifted nervously at the General's outburst, afraid Vostok could take his anger out on him, even though he was only the messenger.

"Our lookout wasn't sure until the doors were finally opened." He reported. "From what he could tell amidst the confusion, it looked like Arman shot himself and someone disarmed the bomb."

"Those damn Intelligence Agents from America I'm sure." Vostok growled. "I am tired of these Americans interfering in our affairs! How do they always know where we will strike?"

Yasimov had no answer, so he remained silent.

Vostok balled one of his hands into a fist then slammed it into his other palm, "I want those men dead."

"What about the attack?" Peter asked.

Vostok scowled at the bomb maker, "The main attack will proceed on schedule. Perhaps you can ensure that your work is not so easily defeated for this one, yes?"

Peter's eyes darted wildly at the General's words. "My design was perfect."

"Obviously it was not!" Vostok screamed as he lashed out and struck the bomb maker across the face with the back of his hand. "Do it right this time."

Stumbling from the blow, Peter lifted a hand to his wounded face and felt blood upon his lips. "Yes, General. I'm sorry, I did not mean to speak out of turn."

"Do not let it happen again, comrade." Vostok muttered.

A knock on the door drew the attention of the General and the Colonel, much to the bomb maker's relief. A moment later the door opened and a soldier entered, giving the General a sharp salute.

"What is it?" Vostok asked, not pleased by the interruption.

"Sir, we've caught an intruder lurking about in the woods." The soldier reported.

"Really? Bring him here." Vostok demanded.

"Yes, Sir." The soldier saluted and left. A few moments later he returned with the prisoner in tow.

The old man stood defiant in the presence of Vostok, which both pleased and angered the Soviet General. He detested weakness, so when his enemies stood rebelliously before him, Vostok felt the need to acknowledge it. "You are brave, old man."

The man glared at Vostok for a moment then said, "I _am_ an old man. I remember how things were before and I will do anything to ensure those times remain in the past."

The pigeon man's words brought a dark cloud over the General. "You do not appreciate what you've lost. I regret that you will not live long enough to see your city restored to its former glory under Soviet rule."

The man spat at the floor, "I care not for my life, you Soviet pigs. You will be stopped."

Vostok's anger rose, but then he leaned back and laughed, "By, you old man? I think not."

"The Americans will stop you. They've already disrupted your plans. You're losing, Vostok. Once again you are losing to the Americans." The old man grinned with satisfaction as he watched the bald man's face react to his statement.

"I will never lose to those American dogs. I will learn the truth from them before I destroy them and their allies here in Prague." Vostok shot back. "And you, my old gnarled friend, will lead them straight to me."

The old man cringed in response to Vostok's proclamation. "I'll never help you."

"Oh you will, comrade. In fact, all I need you to do is relax." A low evil, chuckle rose forth from Vostok's throat. "Or do not. It does not matter, either way you will not leave this farm alive."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 10**

Much to Race's dismay, Phil has insisted that they head out early in the morning again, but the investigation had to continue. The events of the Symposium had been enough to wrack both of the men's nerves almost to the breaking point. However, even with though he wanted to head out first thing in the morning, Phil had taken the brunt of the dealing with the locals, to include recounting the events over and over to Inspector Kovar and his team; much to Race's relief.

Exhaustion was beginning to set in as Race and Jade sat at one of the tables, watching Corbin interact with the INTERPOL Agent Kovar. From what Race could tell, the exchange was starting to get heated as it appeared Kovar seemed to feel the Americans had made him look bad instead actually caring that they had stopped a massive tragedy.

"Glad I'm not a part of that conversation." Race mumbled with a snort. "I'd have decked the guy by now."

Jade released a low laugh, her body language indicating she was just as worn out by the ordeal as Race. "Agreed."

Throwing his hands in the air, Corbin grunted as he turned away from Kovar. Coming over and sitting at the table with Race and Jade he sighed as he ran his hands over his face.

"You know when you become the Director, that's going to be your full time job right there." Race joked. "No more chasing down bad guys and saving the world."

Phil eyed his partner with a smirk. "Perhaps, but I'll definitely run our organization differently than Stephens does. For starters, I wouldn't put up with assholes like Kovar trying to make a political statement when people's lives are at risk."

"Does he realize Vostok is still out there?" Jade asked.

Phil nodded, "Of course he does, but he doesn't want our help. Its political for him. Fucking INTERPOL. I've never liked working with them."

"So what does that mean? We just go home?" Race asked, not sure he liked what his partner was getting at.

Shaking his head, Phil replied, "Hell no. We're not here at his request, so he can piss off for all I care. I'll deal with the ramifications of blowing off INTERPOL when we get home and I file our report to the Director. Until then, we concentrate on our task at hand."

"Finding and stopping Vostok." Race stated.

Looking at the pair, Phil offered, "Why don't you two get out of here while you can? I can handle it from here."

"Are you sure, Phil? I can stay and help." Race countered, even though he was ready to bolt the moment Phil had suggested it.

"You've done enough, both of you." Phil smiled. "Now get out of here before Kovar tries to question you again. I'll meet up with you later."

Standing they smiled at Phil who suddenly rethought his previous statement, "Actually, you know what, I'll just see you in the morning bright and earlier at zero-six. I don't want to...interrupt anything."

Race laughed as Jade wrapped an arm through his. "See you in the morning, partner. Try not to work too late."

With a smirk, Corbin headed back to the gaggle of local authorities, to include the INTERPOL Agent Kovar and the brunette woman who Race had noticed his partner with earlier in the evening.

"Let's get out of here then." Race said as he turned his attention to Jade.

"Lead the way, handsome." Jade replied as they made their way to one of the rear doors that had been unblocked.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, Race made his way to the lobby of his hotel; this time Jade had stayed and was at his side as they met up with Phil, who much to Race's surprise, didn't comment about Jade's presence at all. Race assumed that after yesterday evening, the other Agent was thankful for any help they could get, even if it was from the woman who had burned him years ago in Korea.

"Where are we headed?" Race asked as they left the hotel. The early morning fog, typical of Prague at this time of year, was heavy and lingered like an ominous warning, reminding them that even though they had stopped one disaster, they still hadn't found Vostok.

"To the Charles Bridge," Phil answered. "Pavel texted me last night, said he had some information."

"It could be the break we need to find Vostok before he strikes again." Race suggested hopefully.

"You think he is going to strike again?" Jade asked.

"Even if we hadn't of stopped Doctor Arman, I don't think that was Vostok's main target." Race explained as they traversed the quiet, sleepy streets. "Even though he was obviously distraught, Arman made it sound like it was a test run. While taking out some of the world's most renown scientists would have been significant indeed, it didn't feel right for Vostok."

"What do you mean?" Jade inquired, concerned that their efforts may have been in vain.

"He means that Vostok doesn't care about those people. Killing them wouldn't make any impact towards his ultimate goal of Soviet reunification." Phil replied. "There's something else significant about this time of year, something I hadn't thought about until speaking more with the locals."

"What's that?" Race asked. He figured Phil had learned his information from his new friend at the conference, but decided now was not the time to prod Corbin about the woman.

"Tomorrow kicks off the celebration for the Velvet Revolution."

"When the country split and gained its independence?" Race asked.

"Right," Phil nodded. "It was only a coincidence that the Symposium was at the same time. This is a big city, lots of events occurring simultaneously. Vostok used Arman to attack those that had shunned Arman and his work during the Cold War. Now Vostok's real attack will be against the people that chose freedom over the oppressive iron fist of Soviet rule. Tomorrow morning the weeklong celebration commences. We originally thought he was going to attack a mass transit system, but that's seems to have changed."

"We probably threw a big enough wrench into his plans that he had to adjust. He still wants to make a statement, just a different type of statement." Race surmised.

"At this point he just wants to show his strength and brutality. Once he's accomplished that, then he'll continue on with his campaign of terror and reunification."

"So we have to find and stop Vostok before tomorrow morning." Race stated with determination.

"That's the plan." Phil replied.

"And if we can't?" Jade asked the obvious.

"Then we hope we can stop him before he sets off his bomb tomorrow morning." Phil said. "I've already pleaded with the Czechs to cancel or at least postpone the celebration. Kovar knows that Vostok is still loose, but even with what happened yesterday, he's not convinced there will be a second attack."

"What a bull-headed fool." Jade said.

"He's letting his pride get in the way of reason." Phil grumbled as they approached the bridge.

Seeing the silhouette of a man seated on the bridge, both men could tell something was off. While the figure was surrounded by birds and fog, the man did not appear to move at all.

"Something's not right." Race said, his hand instinctively moving to hover over his holstered pistol.

"Wait here." Phil said through gritted teeth as he moved forward cautiously. Slipping his weapon free from his own holster, Corbin kept the firearm low, but ready.

Approaching the lone occupant of the bridge, Phil tensed as he drew closer, the cooing of the hungry pigeons filling his ears as each step brought him nearer to his contact, who still sat motionless on a wooden folding chair.

"Pavel?" Corbin called the man's name, but there was no response.

Stepping forward, the body came into view. Phil's eyes went wide with shock then he turned away from the sight; the old man was dead. Looking back he saw that Pavel's face was blotted and bruised; his nose and orbital bones had been broken during what could only have been a brutal beating. However, the blunt force trauma was not what had killed the poor old man; the fact that his throat had been slashed open from ear to ear was the obvious cause of death. The top of the man's shirt and jacket were drenched in blood.

"Damnit." Phil spat as he holstered his weapon, the numerous pigeons taking flight at the sound of the man's anger. Moving closer to the body he saw a piece of paper clutched in Pavel's broken and twisted fingers. Reaching forward he pulled it free, un-crumbled it and stepped back to read it. As he did, he heard Race and Jade approaching.

"Jesus," Race muttered as he saw the old man's body. "Vostok did this? Fucking bastard."

"Vostok wanted us to find him like this." Phil stated and Race could hear the anger in the man's voice.

"What's that?" Jade asked, pointing at the paper in Phil's hand.

Turning he said, "Call the authorities to report this." Stepping past them, Phil headed back in the direction they had come.

"Wait, Phil, where are you going?" Race followed quickly after the other man. "We can't leave him like this."

"This has to end. That man didn't deserve to die like that." Phil growled.

"I know, but stop and think for a minute, will you?" Race attempted to reason. He was as angry at the old contact's death as Phil was, but he couldn't allow that anger to cloud their judgment.

"Think about what?" Phil shot back. "How many more people have to die before we get Vostok?" Then looking at Jade he said, "Call your friend Gregor. We need some more firepower."

Race kept in step with his partner, then watched as Phil stopped in front of a random vehicle, withdrew his weapon, looked around, then smashed the window. Reaching in and popping the door open, Race grabbed his friend's arm and said, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Corbin?"

"I'm going to find this son of a bitch." He slapped his hand against Race's chest, pressing the paper from Pavel's hand against him. "And I'm going to put a bullet in his fucking skull."

Race took the paper and reading it saw that it was an address outside of the city, he assumed it was Vostok's hideout. "You can't go alone. And you sure as shit can't being stealing cars!"

"Get with Jade's crew and meet me at this address." He ordered, ignoring Race's protests. "I'm sick of these games, Race. We have to stop this madman once and for all. No one else is going to die, not if I can do something to stop it."

"You don't see this for what it is? It's a damn trap, Phil! Vostok wants us to come after him. And you're going right to him. Stop and think for one damn minute." Race reasoned, trying to contain the anger and frustration in his own voice. "We need to go in as one force."

Getting into the driver's seat, Phil pulled out a pocket knife, then began to work at stripping the steering column in order to hotwire the vehicle. "I'll go recon the place. I'll wait a fair distance off, use your GPS plug-in from your comms to locate me."

Running his hands through his short hair, Race clasped his fingers together on top of his head and said, "I don't like this plan, Phil. We should stick together."

Phil looked up , but past Race, at Jade. "Go get your crew and take Bannon with you."

Jade smiled, nodded and pulled Race back just as Phil got the car started. Throwing the stolen vehicle in gear he pulled out of the parking spot and headed off, disappearing into the early morning mists.

"What the fuck just happened?!" Race shouted, throwing his arms in the air, watching his partner speed off.

Jade laughed at Race's shock in regards to his partner's actions, "I just gained a new level of respect for that man." Tugging at Race's arm she said, "Come on, make that anonymous call to the cops as I get Gregor moving. We need to get to that address as quick as possible."

"And I thought I was the reckless, hot-headed one on this team!" Race mumbled as he shook his head and got to work on following through on Phil's orders.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the last remaining moments of the early morning's grey bleakness lingered in the air, Corbin pulled his vehicle off the side of the country road just down from the private drive that led to the address of Vostok's alleged hideout. The stillness and quiet of the morning was quaint, but Phil could find no solace in its calming effects. As he had driven out of the city and towards the address, aided by his own GPS unit, his anger had grown, not subsided.

Shutting the vehicle off, he pulled his cell from his pocket and sent off a quick text message. Without waiting for a response, he turned the phone off, then removed the SIM card and battery, intending to dispose of each at separate points along his path. He stuffed the items into his jacket pocket before opening the door and stepping out of the vehicle.

As soon as his feet made contact with the soft, muddy ground he pulled his firearm and turned in the direction of the wood line and the gravel drive. Two steps forward the peace of the quiet countryside was disturbed by a sharp ping. Spinning on his heels, Phil ducked just in time as a bullet bounced off the roof of his car and over his head.

"Guess Race was right." He grumbled aloud as he crouched down next to the car.

He heard a shuffling of feet and surmised that whoever was out there was moving in to surround him. Cursing he tried to steal a quick look at the woods, but was forced back down by another report from the silenced sniper rifle somewhere in the forest.

Knowing he had to move, Phil quickly assessed his situation. A low ditch on the opposite side of the road should give him more cover and concealment than his current location and perhaps buy him a few precious seconds to think up a plan.

Popping up on the balls of his feet, he feinted a move to the front of the vehicle, drawing the sniper's fire forward. As soon as he heard the shot, Phil readjusted his route and darted across the road. Just as he reached the ravine, the sniper fired again. Moving to dive forward, Phil grunted as the sniper's round grazed against his lower right leg, causing the I-1 Agent to stumble. His own momentum and the impact of the round grazing his leg was enough to send him over the edge of the road and into the muddy and wet shallow ditch on the other side.

"Well, I made it." He laughed to himself, wincing in pain as he spoke, "Just not how I had planned." Doing a quick check, he saw that the bullet had grazed the side of his right leg, just below the knee. Also he felt a trickle of blood already running down the side of his head from when he had fallen into the gravel and over the edge of the road.

Breathing heavily, he realized that the sniper had intentionally wounded him versus killing him outright. The image of Pavel's beaten and broken body immediately came to his mind just as he realized that he had dropped his handgun when he'd fallen into the ditch.

The methodical stomping of military style boots against the crushed gravel drew Phil's attention back to the road; his attackers knew where he was. Pushing the burning pain from his mind, Phil attempted to scramble out of the ditch, hoping to lose his pursuers in the tall grass in the field that stretched out before him. As he did, he heard laughter, then the splashing of boots as two men jumped down into the watery ditch, one of each side of him.

Grabbing the wounded agent, one of the soldiers hefted Phil upward just enough to turn him over and slam him down on his back against the muddy ground.

"You should have killed me." Phil spat as he tried to sit back up in defiance, but was forced back down by a boot to the chest from one of the soldiers.

The blonde haired man that stood over him was not Vostok, but Phil knew him to be Colonel Nikolai Yasimov, Vostok's right-hand man. "Where would the fun be in that, comrade?"

"I'm not your fucking comrade." Phil shot back. Yasimov's smile disappeared as he pulled a .380 semi-automatic Makarov pistol from the leather holster on his belt.

"No, you are not." Yasimov growled with menace. "You're an American spy that has interfered in General Vostok's plans. But now it appears that you've run out of time." As if to make his point, he aimed the pistol at Phil's head as the two soldiers grabbed the agent by the arms and pulled him up to his knees; forcing him to kneel in the mud before the Colonel.

"Your General couldn't even come out here to deal with me himself? Had to send his lackeys out here to do it for him?"

"You Americans are something else." Nikolai taunted. "Here you are, faced with impending death, yet you continue to run your mouths like the insolent, annoying pests that you are. Even in the face of death, you are too stupid to be afraid."

"It's not stupidity, I'm just not afraid of you." Phil said and spat at the Colonel's feet.

Scowling at the act, Yasimov crouched down to lock eyes with Phil and snatched the other man's jaw in his hand. "You will be, comrade." Letting go of his prisoner, Nikolai stood then motioned to one of the soldiers.

"Go to hell." Phil shouted just as the soldier to his left let go of his arm and raised his rifle.

Suddenly the black darkness was all Agent Corbin knew.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So your man took off on his own?" Gregor asked.

Jade and roused the young man from his sleep and had basically demanded that he help. Gregor had been about to protest, until Race had explained to the young ex-Army operative what had happened at the Symposium the night before and that Vostok was still out there and planning another attack. That news seemed to get through to the young man, whose pride in his city and his country was enough to motivate him to fight to save it.

"He's reconning the site." Race explained as he helped Alexander, the long-haired metal head friend of Gregor's, load a weapon's storage case into the back of Gregor's van.

"You shouldn't have let him go out there on his own." Gregor said as he loaded two large gym bags into the back of the van. "It's open country out there, not many places to hide."

"I wasn't going to stop him." Race said.

Jade added, "He can take care of himself for now, but we need to hurry. We need to stop Vostok today."

"You say he's planning to attack the celebrations tomorrow morning?" Gregor asked.

"That's what we think and we think he still has a biological weapon that he plans to use for that attack."

Gregor shook his head as Alexander slammed the back of the van closed. Motioning with a nod of his head for everyone to climb in, Gregor said, "Well, let's go stop him then. It's been a while since I've been in a good old firefight."

"Really? I thought you were a medic." Race smirked.

"I was, but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the thrill of the battle either." Gregor explained and received a confirmation nod from Alexander as the van headed down the road. Then glancing at Race through the rearview mirror he said, "Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."

Race frowned, but responded with a short nod; he knew exactly what Gregor meant. It was something that couldn't be explained, the thrill of combat even as devastating and horrible as it was, was still something that he missed. "Let's just get out there, meet up with my friend, and stop Vostok. Got it?"

"Got it." Gregor agreed as he concentrated on his driving.

Jade saw a change in Race's demeanor and touching his arm, she asked. "Hey, handsome, you alright?"

Race gave her a short smile and a nod as he slid across the bench in the back of the van to start loading some extra weapon magazine. "Yeah, I just suddenly got a weird feeling."

"Like what?" Jade asked as she started mirroring Race's actions with the magazines.

"I just hope Phil didn't go and get himself killed by taking off like that."

"Phil's not stupid, Race." Jade offered. "He'll be fine."

"I hope so. I like the stubborn bastard." Race smiled.

"He's a good guy and you can give him a hug and a kiss and tell him that once we get there." Jade joked.

The stern look returned to Race's features. Grabbing one of the H&K G36 rifles from the storage container, Race slapped a fully loaded magazine into the well and said. "Vostok is going to pay for all of this. No matter what, that son of a bitch is going to pay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 11**

"Over here." Jade called.

She, along with Race, Gregor and Alexander had arrived at the location from the paper found in Pavel's hand. Immediately Race had been on guard, seeing the car that Phil had stolen was abandoned. All of his attempts to raise the other agent over the comms unit had been unsuccessful.

Examining the car, Race found what appeared to be damage from bullets and surmised that whatever happened, it had not been good for the other I-1 Agent. Cursing inwardly, Race glanced at his watch; it had been almost two hours since Phil took off from the Charles Bridge.

Drawn to the sound of Jade's voice, Race frowned and walked over towards where she was crouching on the far side of the road. "Found something?" He asked as he came over to where she was crouched down, examining the ground.

With a short nod, Jade looked up at Race, "Looks like blood."

Shaking his head, Race knelt down next to the woman and confirmed what she found. The splattering of the dark, semi-wet blotches did indeed appear to be blood. "Yeah, but if its Phil's blood there's certainly not enough here to suggest he's dead."

As they stood, Alexander was climbing back up from the ditch just ahead of them. As he emerged, he handed over a mud covered handgun to Race. "Damnit," Race growled. "This is Phil's weapon."

"There's indications down there of what looks to have been a struggle and also drag marks." Alexander stated. "Looks like your partner was captured."

"Damn him!" Race proclaimed. "I told him not to go out on his own."

"Calm down, Race. He can't have been taken that long ago." Jade stated, trying to be the voice of reason, but also feeling the sense of frustration that Race was displaying; she also knew the timeline and that if Corbin was with Vostok, he had been so for over an hour.

Rubbing his chin, Race saw that the others were looking to him for guidance, for orders. Finally he said, "We need to get him back. Vostok doesn't seem like the type to hold prisoners for very long. Once Corbin's of no more use to him, then Vostok will kill him."

"We have to get to him before that happens." Gregor stated the obvious.

"Let's just hope he doesn't piss Vostok off and make him angry." Jade added as they gathered back over at the van to collect the necessary gear.

"We need to get to him before that happens." Race stated. "I'm sure Phil will run his mouth to try and get Vostok talking. Which could be both good and bad."

Minutes later the team was ready and again turned to Race with looks of determination. "So here's the plan," Race started. "Jade, you and Gregor look for Phil. Alexander and I will look for evidence of the second bomb and destroy it if necessary."

"That's it?" Gregor laughed.

"Simple gets it done." Race smirked then motioned for them to move out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A hard smack across the face jolted Corbin awake. He was groggy and the left side of his face ached from where Yasimov's thug had cracked him with the butt of his rifle. His leg also burned from the gunshot wound and his head pounded from within.

As his senses returned, the first thing that hit him was the stench. Wherever he was being held reeked and he assumed from the smells of mold, mildew, and an overall wetness that he was being held in the basement of the farmhouse where Vostok was hiding. It was also damp and the chill penetrated Phil to the core. Shuddering he noticed that his captors had stripped him of his jacket and shirt and all he wore was an undershirt and jeans. They had also been kind enough to leave his shoes on, which told Phil that they didn't think he would have a chance to escape. _'Not a good sign.'_ Phil thought.

"Get up." He heard a rough voice order.

Groaning, Phil didn't move, but instead leaned back against the cold stones of the structure.

"I said get up." The man shouted as he reached down and hauled Phil to his feet.

"Where are you taking me?" Phil managed to ask as another man came forward and grabbed his other arm.

"Shut up and do as you are told." The second man stated as they hauled him through a door and into an adjoining room. The room was larger than the small closet like area, probably an old wine cellar, he had just been in and as they tossed him down to the floor in the center of the room he tried to take in his surroundings, looking for any possible escape routes. Two sets of stairs, one leading up into the house and another that appeared to lead to the exterior of the house, and a number of small windows, one of which was already broken was all he was able to see before his concentration was interrupted by a deep, rumbling, and humorless laugh.

"Hello, comrade." General Vostok spoke with a gravelly tone that displayed his true intentions. Stepping out of the shadows, Phil took in the General's massive form as the big Russian stood before him, his hands balled into fists, resting on his hips. Off to the side was a wooden table upon which sat most of Phil's belongings, sans pistol, a cloth and a number of jugs of water.

"I already told your lackey, I'm not your fucking comrade." Phil replied.

"Yes," Vostok laughed as Yasimov snorted in disgust from where he stood near the table. "He mentioned that."

"What do you want?" Phil questioned. "You know I'm not going to tell you anything."

"You will tell me what I want to know, Agent Corbin. I have no doubt about that."

Corbin glared at the General which invoked another laugh from his adversary.

"You tried to kill innocent people, you sick bastard. And you murdered Pavel."

"The old man got what he deserved. Just as you will." Vostok snapped his fingers and the two guards grabbed Phil by the arms, once again forcing him to kneel.

"You call yourselves soldiers? You're nothing more than murderous thugs." Phil shot back, the tension of his situation bundling up his nerves and his muscles. He struggled against the men that held him, but to no avail.

"Silence." Vostok shouted as his anger at Phil's words bled through his rough and cold demeanor.

"You'll never get away with this, Vostok." Phil continued to struggle against the men that restrained him, but they held him firm. Yasimov snatched the cheesecloth from the table and moved behind the prisoner, obviously enthralled by what was about to happen.

"Now, Agent Corbin," Vostok said, "let me show you why the Soviets are more resilient than you Americans. Let's see how long until you start to talk."

Grabbing a handful of Phil's hair, Yasimov jerked the Agent's head backwards as Vostok strode forward and grabbed one of the jugs from the table with a cool confidence that set Phil's nerves on edge. Standing directly in front of the Agent, who continued to struggle, Vostok scowled at his prey.

Still holding firm, Yasimov placed the cloth over Phil's face as Vostok began to pour the contents of the jug over his face and head. Phil struggled even harder, attempting to break free from the grasps of the men, but the struggle proved useless. His mind and body worked against one another, as Vostok continued to water-board him, creating the belief in Phil's mind that he was drowning. Vostok laughed evilly as he watched his captor's futile struggles. After empting half the contents of the jug, Vostok stepped back as Yasimov pulled the cloth away.

Phil heaved and choked as the Russians laughed mercilessly at his pain.

"That is just the beginning, comrade." Vostok said.

Phil gritted his teeth and worked to set his mind at ease. Vostok grinned as Yasimov once again went through the motions of jerking the man's head back and placing the cloth on his face. Once set, Vostok moved forward and repeated his torturous task over and over.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Moving towards the private drive, Race, Jade and the two young Czechs halted in their tracks at the sounds of approaching vehicles.

"Get down." Race ordered, not sure what was happening. Quickly moving off the road and into the wood line the group concealed themselves and watched as three military vehicles lumbered down the road and stopped next to their own van.

"What the hell is going on?" Jade whispered as they watched a number of fatigue clad soldiers disembark the vehicles. "They aren't Russians."

Race pursued his lips as he watched. "No, those are Czechs. I have no idea what's going on." He glanced at Gregor who shrugged back at him.

"Agent Corbin. Agent Bannon." A voice from the group of soldiers called out.

"What the hell?" Race mumbled.

"We know you are here and we have come to help." The Commander of the forces called out.

Race went to stand and felt Jade tug at his arm, "It could be a trap."

"It could be, but I don't think it is."

He stood and emerged from the wood line, hands raised as the soldiers saw him and pointed their own weapons at him. Race's rifle was slung over his shoulder and hung at his side, so as he stepped forward he ensured he kept his hands visible.

A young Lieutenant stepped forward and motioned for his men to lower their weapons. Approaching each other, the Lieutenant looked Race up and down, "You are?" He asked as the two men met.

"Race Bannon," He replied. "And you?"

"Lieutenant Martinek from the Castle Garrison." The man held out his hand which Race shook. "We are here to help. We have air support en-route."

"How did you know about us?" Race asked as the rest of his team stepped out of the wood line.

"I'll explain later," The soldier replied. "Where is your partner?"

"We think he's been captured by Vostok." Race answered grimly.

"We should get moving to the farmhouse." Lieutenant Martinek nodded and motioned for his troops to join.

Race smiled, grateful for the assistance, and hefted his rifle once again. "Then let's move out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fifteen minutes later, his tormentors stopped. The guards holding him let go, causing Phil to collapse to the cold, dirty floor. Taking a number of deep breaths and coughing at the same time, Phil looked up at Vostok with defiance. "Give it up, Vostok. You can torture me, kill me, it doesn't matter. The Cold War is over. You lost. You'll always be the loser."

Vostok scowled at the Agent's resolve. He had assumed the man would have broken under the simulating drowning torture, but he hadn't. He'd need to find another tactic to get the Agent talking, he needed to know what the Americans knew about his plans for the final attack.

The guards grabbed his arms again as Yasimov jerked Phil's head back, exposing his neck and with his other hand placed a knife against the I-1 Agent's throat. "You disrespect us? Let me kill him now, General."

Phil grinned, attempting to disguise his own fear and pain, "Go ahead and do it. It doesn't matter at this point. You'll never get away with any of this."

Vostok shook his head at Yasimov who grunted his disappointment, but let go. "I may yet slit your throat, American." Vostok started as he walked over to the table and picked up Phil's phone which had been reassembled. "However, there are still questions that need answering before I do."

Phil remained silent as he watched the General manipulating the device.

Vostok grinned as he retrieved the last text message Phil had sent from the phone. "My lookout at the Symposium reported that it appeared you had the aid of a number of locals here within the Czech Government."

"What of it?" Phil asked, knowing where Vostok was headed with his questions.

"Who did you send this message to and what does it mean?" Vostok asked as he held the phone for Phil to see.

"If you think the Soviet Union is so much stronger and more intelligent than America, figure it out for yourself."

Vostok frowned, then lashed out with a sharp punch to the side of Phil's face. The impact made a sickening crunch as the force caused the guards to stagger as their captive fell to the floor from the blow. _'Ok he's definitely strong.'_ Phil told himself as his face flushed with pain.

"Did you send this to your lady friend?" Vostok asked as he watched his captive spit a wad of blood onto the floor.

"I don't know who you're talking about." Phil replied.

"What do these numbers mean?"

Phil laughed which enraged the Russian once again. "You lie there on the ground like a dog and defy me? Answer my questions and I promise to kill you quickly. I want to know what this message means and what you know of my plans."

"I know you'll never get away with what you're planning." Phil said which resulted in another strike to the face from Vostok.

Groaning in pain, Phil could only hope that Race and the others were actually on the way; he was running out of time. He knew he could only stall Vostok for so long before the Russian gave up and killed him. He just hoped that Race would find him before that actually happened.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Approaching the farmhouse with caution, Race could make out two main structures; the house itself and the barn. As he and the others observed from the wood line he counted at least twenty men stationed at various points throughout the property. Frowning he had to assume there were more, which left Race's team along with the Garrison men outnumbered.

"When is your chopper going to arrive?" Race asked the Lieutenant as the man came up to his side.

"Not long, they had to come from a location quite far from the city." Martinek responded.

"Alright," Race sighed. "We don't have time to wait. For all we know my partner could be dead already and we need to find the bomb. Jade, Gregor the plan is still the same. You two along with some of Martinek's men clear the house. That's probably where they are holding Phil."

After receiving confirmation nods from his companions Race turned his attention to Martinek. "Lieutenant, leave two of your men with me and take the rest with you and flank around towards the rear of the barn. Try to cut off any escape routes. Me, Alexander and your two men will flank to the other side and come up towards the front. Everyone got it?"

After receiving nods and grunts of confirmation from everyone, Race exhaled and said. "In five minutes everyone needs to be in position. My shot will signal the assault. Understood? No one fires until I give the signal. Remember, the only friendly is Corbin. Everyone else can be eliminated if they do not surrender. Now let's move."

As the teams headed off in their respective directions, Jade watched Race go. Gregor saw the smile on his friend's face. Smiling he said, "You really like that guy, huh?"

"He's one sexy hunk." Jade purred in response. "I'm kind of glad I didn't kill him when we first met."

Gregor snorted a laugh, "Kind of? You always were a character, Jade."

"Looks who's talking." she replied.

"When this is all done and over, just remember I want my cut of your prize." Gregor stated as they got into position and waited for the signal.

"You'll get paid, Gregor, don't worry about that."

"Now we just need to survive this fight right here." He smiled at her as he scanned the farmhouse, picking out his first targets.

"Yeah, we sure do." Jade mumbled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vostok sneered as he motioned for Yasimov to hand over his knife. His patience was wearing thin and he knew the American wouldn't talk unless probably persuaded; torture was one thing, but what Vostok had in mind now was something even more sinister.

Weapon in hand Vostok knelt down in front of Phil, who was once again restrained, and said, "I am growing tired of you, Agent Corbin. Tell me what I want to know or else I'll take your manhood and send it to your pretty little girlfriend before I kill her as well." As if to drive his point home, he pressed the knife against Phil's groin, causing the Agent to wince.

"What do you say, comrade?" Vostok smiled evilly knowing the threat of mutilation and psychological trauma was far more effective than mere physical pain.

Jaw set firm, Phil said, "How many times do I have to say it? I'm not your fucking comrade."

"Tell me!" Vostok shouted as he pushed the blade harder, angered that his threats did not seem to work.

"You want to know what the numbers are?" Phil growled as he locked eyes with the General.

"Yes." Vostok breathed as he believed his threat had worked. Smiling he thought that perhaps he would still cut the Agent even after the man told him what he wanted to know. It would serve as payment for all the times the American and his allies had disrupted his plans.

"Grid coordinates." Phil smirked.

"What?" Vostok blinked.

"Grid coordinates for this farmhouse, comrade." Phil mocked. "They're coming for you."

"No!" Vostok growled. Standing he took a step back from Phil, perplexed by the man's answer.

As if to confirm Phil's statement, gunfire suddenly erupted outside. Shouting rang out from all around and moments later the distinct whomping of rotary blades of a low flying helicopter grew closer and closer. Phil laughed at the panicked looks on the Russians' faces. "You want to know who that message was for? I _did_ text my pretty little girlfriend and the Garrison is about to rain fire down on you, asshole."

"Kill him!" Vostok ordered as he moved towards the stairs that led to the exterior of the house with Yasimov right on his heels.

Just as the guards moved into position to fire, the door from upstairs opened and just as quickly closed. Looking around in confusion, one guard shouted and pointed. Two small cylindrical devices had been tossed down the stairs and before anyone in the room could react, they exploded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once in position, Race counted silently to three, then took aim at one of the guards outside the barn. As the man moved into Race's crosshairs, he inhaled, then squeezed the trigger.

The shot was on target and the man collapsed, dead before he knew what had happened. Within a second, the entire property erupted into chaos.

Grinning, Race was on his feet, "Let's move."

A silent mumble from Alexander and the other Czechs with him was all Race heard as he broke through the wood line. Weapon raised he scanned the area for targets. Automatic gunfire spewed forth from the upper landing of the barn, forcing Race and his companions to scramble for cover. Diving behind a stack of hay bales, Race and Alexander surveyed their situation.

"I think they are guarding whatever is in that barn." Race smiled at the metal head, who nodded before slinking along on his belly to the other side of the hay. Lying in the prone position, Alexander attempted to find the machine gunner in his sights, only to be forced back by another onslaught of bullets.

Joining the young Czech, Race placed a hand on the man's back and said, "We can't stay here forever. He'll shred this hay to pieces to get to us."

Looking at the two Garrison soldiers, Race ordered. "Try to draw the gunner out so we can get a bead on him."

The two soldiers exchanged looks of determination then nodded at Race who went to take up position opposite of Alexander. Once ready he nodded at the soldiers. One of the men popped upward and fired blindly towards the barn as the other scrambled out into the open, running for an abandoned tractor. Race held his breath as he watched the young troop running for is life as bullets zinged and whizzed past him, some impacting with the ground only inches from his feet.

Sliding behind the tractor, the young soldier took up a position and opened fire so his buddy could do the same as he just did. Race admired the young men's bravery and skills. Turning his attention back towards the balcony, Race watched as the machine gunner leaned outward, twisting behind his weapon in order to try and get a better aim on the running soldier.

 _'Perfect'_ Race thought as he watched and waited. As soon as the man exposed himself enough, Race squeezed off a round that slammed into the machine gunner's chest. As the man staggered from the blow, Alexander fired and hit the man square in the head. The dead man's momentum propelled him from the window and he crashed into the ground in a bloodied heap.

"Nice shot." Race exclaimed. "Now let's move before someone else takes up that weapon."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"They're downstairs." Jade said as she and Gregor moved into the kitchen behind the Czech soldiers. Shouts could be heard from behind the door that was just off of the kitchen.

As soon as they had heard Race's shot, they had engaged the two guards outside the farmhouse, dropping them both within seconds before they could react. Moving swiftly through the open yard, they had made their way onto the porch and inside the house without any more incidents.

Once inside, they had found three bewildered guards inside the kitchen, but the Czech soldiers had been faster and before the Russians could even raise their weapons, the soldiers had eliminated them with well placed shots to the chests.

"Stand back." Gregor ordered her as the two soldiers flanked the door and withdrew two flash bang grenades from their ammo pouches.

Gregor grabbed the doorknob and with a nod to the men jerked the door open and slammed it shut immediately after they had tossed the grenades down the stairs.

More panicked shouts could be heard, then the grenades exploded with brilliant and immensely loud bangs. Jade only hoped that if Phil was still alive, he was cognizant enough to realize what was happening and react appropriately.

"Now!" Gregor ordered and yanked the door open again.

The two soldiers moved with trained efficiency and quickness. Descending the stairs, they took aim at the two shocked guards that stood dazed over the body of their American prisoner. The Czechs shouted commands and orders to the men to drop their weapons and when they did not compile, the soldiers fired. Both men hit the ground dead.

The soldiers moved through the basement, ensuring it was clear of any immediate threats. They found that the cellar's storm doors had been thrown open. "Others must have escaped through here." One said.

Jade moved towards Corbin, who was stretched out flat on his back, bloodied and barely conscious. Placing a hand on the wounded man's chest, she wrapped her other arm under his back and helped him sit up. "You alright, Phil?"

"I think I'm going to throw up." Phil grumbled as he leaned over to his side, trying to steady his equilibrium.

Jade laughed as she held on to him. Gregor came over and knelt next to them, "Let me check you out."

Phil nodded slowly and said, "Two concussion grenades was a bit excessive, don't you think?"

"Consider it payment for us having to come and rescue your overzealous ass, Phil." Jade remarked with a smile and a gentle pat to the man's head.

"Vostok and Yasimov?" He asked with concern.

"They got out, but Race and the others are still outside. They'll get them." Jade assured the wounded I-1 Agent, keeping her arms around him, preventing him from getting up. "Just stay down, you're in no condition to fight, let Race handle it from here on out."

Phil gave the woman a curt nod, "Thanks."

"Next time listen to your partner and don't run off like a damn fool. You're lucky Vostok didn't just kill you outright."

"Yeah, lucky me." Phil rolled his eyes as his head continued to swim, effects of not only the beating and torture he took, but also the concussion grenades.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Backpack in hand Peter crouched low, surrounded by the Russian guards that were assigned to protect him. "Get me to Vostok." He ordered.

As the gunfire outside the barn continued on, the guards exchanged worried glances, but their leader simply said, "You heard him. We move out towards the farmhouse. Now!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Vostok!" Race growled. Seeing the big Russian and the younger, blonde Colonel emerge from the storm entrance, Race turned his attention towards his main target.

"American scum." Vostok yelled, raised a handgun and fired in Race's direction. Diving for cover, Race saw the Colonel, AK-74 in hand, open fire on the Czech soldiers, wounding one as they tried to move out of the line of fire.

Grunting, Race watched as Vostok and Yasimov moved around the corner of the farmhouse and climb inside an armored Jeep. Cursing, Race got to his feet, took aim and fired, but his rounds pinged harmlessly off of the vehicle's protective plating.

As the Jeep roared to life, Race saw Martinek and his men emerge from around the corner of the barn, also concentrating their fire on the Jeep.

"We can't let them escape." Race shouted to no one in particular.

A gaggle of Russians poured forth from the barn, firing in all directions, pinning Race and Alexander down as well as hitting Martinek, who fell to the ground, immediately clutching his leg as two of his men dragged him back to safety.

"Damnit!" Race growled as the Russian General was quickly regaining the upper hand.

As the Jeep shot towards the group of Russian soldiers, Race turned his sights on the group, firing at the men, dropping two just as the Jeep sped in front of group, cutting them off from Race's sights.

"Get in." Vostok ordered to Peter as Yasimov slammed on the brakes.

Peter nodded. As he moved towards the rear of the Jeep, more gunfire rang out and Peter grunted, two rounds fired from Martinek's men hitting the bomb maker in the legs.

"Help." Peter cried as he staggered from the impact.

Vostok scowled as his soldiers took up positions to engage the Czechs again. Getting out of the Jeep, Vostok strode over towards his fallen bomb maker and snatched the backpack away from the man.

"What are you doing?" Peter's eyes widened as Vostok took the package from him.

"You have fulfilled your duties, comrade. Just know that the Soviet Union will rise again."

"Vostok, no," Peter pleaded.

"Goodbye." Vostok said, then raised his pistol at the man and shot him point blank in the head.

Climbing back into the Jeep he looked at Yasimov, "Drive."

"Yes, Sir." Nikolai replied. Throwing the Jeep into gear, both men heard the distinct whomping of the rotary blades of the inbound helicopter as it arrived at the fight.

"Too late, my Czech friends." Vostok laughed as they sped off and into the woods, using the trees as concealment from the helicopter that quickly came into view.

"Damn!" Race hollered as he stepped out from behind his position and let loose a hail of bullets at the retreating vehicle. "No, damnit, no!"

As the helicopter screamed by overhead, chasing the fleeing Jeep, Race continued to fire at the vehicle, but to no avail; within moments it disappeared into the wood line.

Looking around, Race surveyed the scene. Most of the Russians had been killed or wounded as well as two of the Czechs being killed and four, to include Martinek, wounded as well. The Russians that had surrendered were being rounded up by the rest of the Czech soldiers.

"Damnit all to hell." Race said as he watched the helicopter disappear in pursuit, but his gut told him that they would not catch the Russian General.

Running over to Lieutenant Martinek, Race knelt down next to the wounded man and gave him his thanks.

"But they got away." Martinek replied with a grimace as one of his men tended to his wound.

"I know, but we'll get them. We know where he's going to strike next." Race assured the man.

Meeting up with Alexander the two men went to the basement of the farmhouse where they had watched Vostok emerge. Going down they found Jade, Gregor, and Phil.

Kneeling next to Phil, who Race could tell had taken quite a bit of abuse, Race reported, "Vostok got away with the bomb."

Phil lowered his head, "Damnit, this is all my fault. If I hadn't of run off like an idiot,"

"Doesn't matter at this point," Race said as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. Race noticed Corbin's injuries, but also that he was drenched. Glancing around he saw the empty water jugs and quickly guessed what Vostok had done to the other man. "We know where he's going to strike."

Phil nodded, but Race could tell his words did little for set the veteran's mind at ease. Jade saw the looks on both men's faces as well and said, "Vostok's on edge now. He'll make even more mistakes."

"And we know what he looks like and can get the word out to the rest of the Garrison and the police." Race added. "Can you contact your friend again and see if now she can do something to convince the Government to call off or postpone the celebrations tomorrow?"

Phil shook his head and gestured at the soldiers and Martinek who had also joined them in the cellar once his leg was bandaged, "I called in this favor already."

"We should not call off the celebrations." Martinek stated with a firmness that drew the others' attention. "If we did Vostok would just go into hiding and strike some other time. We know he will be there. We know what he looks like and we can be ready for him."

Race nodded, the Lieutenant's statement made sense. They would just have to wait for Vostok to make his next move.

"I'm telling you right now," Phil said, "We have orders to shoot to kill on sight. No more trying to talk him down or bring him in. You see Vostok. You kill him. Understood?"

"No hesitation." Race agreed as he offered his hand to Phil and helped his partner to his feet. "None whatsoever."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 12**

With nods and rounds of handshakes, Gregor and Alexander departed, having dropped Race, Jade, and Phil off at their hotel. It had taken the rest of the morning and into the afternoon before they were able to break away from the scene at the farmhouse and now found themselves back at the hotel at just before three in the afternoon.

Watching the crazy young Czech's depart Race looked at Jade and asked, "Where in the world did you link up with those two?"

Jade gave Race her best secretive smile, "I don't reveal all, remember? Just be thankful they're on our side in this fight."

Rolling his eyes, Race replied, "Yeah, definitely." Looking at Phil who had an ice pack pressed to the side of his head and looked like he wanted to nothing more than grab a drink and forget the entire ordeal, he asked, "How you feeling, partner?"

"How do I look?" Phil replied.

"Pretty shitty." Race grinned.

Smirking he answered, "That's how I feel."

"Don't worry, I'm sure those good looks of yours will come back soon enough." Jade winked. "You're just going to have to let those nasty bruises, scraps, and cuts heal first."

With a grunt Phil stated, "Let's get inside. My friend, as you keep calling her, is meeting us here at four. We need to work out a plan for tomorrow. Let's meet up in my room in thirty minutes."

Nodding their agreements, Race and Jade watched as Phil headed inside. "So, thirty minutes?" Race grinned at Jade once they were alone.

"Not enough time to shower separately." Jade purred.

"You want to know what I'm thinking?" Race asked, an ear to ear grin spreading across his face.

"I'd prefer that you show me." Jade winked, pulling Race's hand to guide him inside.

"My pleasure." Race muttered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vostok snarled as he exited the vehicle. After escaping into the woods, he and Yasimov had fled to their fall back location where a second armored car waited, hidden under camouflage netting designed to interrupt and scatter radar scans. Then had switched vehicles and waited until the Czechs had called off their pursuit.

Once the area was clear, Yasimov had made a call and headed off to their previously designated contingency location.

Slamming the door to the vehicle, Vostok glowered as he strode purposefully to the doors of the lonely country house. Yasimov grabbed the backpack that the General had taken from Peter and followed his superior inside, not wanting to make the General's blackened mood any worse than it already was.

Vostok's imposing figure made the small lobby of the country house feel even smaller. Scanning the interior with a determined purpose, Vostok's gaze fell upon the old man behind the counter. While he could tell the man was a tad intimidated by the General, Vostok was thankful the old fellow didn't cower and run in fear of the big Russian.

"At least some of our allies still have their backbones." Vostok declared as he made his way over to the counter, Yasimov quickly falling in step.

"General," The old man stammered, but with a audible gulp quickly regained his composure, "you honor us with your presence."

"It is unfortunate that we had to meet like this, comrade." Vostok growled.

"All has been arranged for you. The inn is totally yours." The man replied. "I have contacted your reserve forces in this region and they are currently on their way here now."

"Good." Vostok replied, his voice deep and commanding. "Once they have all arrived I want them assembled in your dining area at twenty hundred hours this evening. Until then, I will not be disturbed. Is that clear, comrade?"

"Perfectly." The caretaker replied, handing Vostok the key to the best suite in the inn.

"Come, Nikolai." Vostok stated as he snatched the key from the old man's hand. "We have work to do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A little over thirty minutes later, Race and Jade made their way towards Phil's room. Upon arrival, Race found that Phil had also taken the time to clean up and change. He also had a fresh ice pack pressed to the side of his face, continuing to combat the swelling and bruising caused by Vostok's beating, but also to alleviate the slight concussion he was probably suffering from as well.

"Maybe you should go to a hospital." Race suggested as they sat down and partook in some of the coffee that Phil had made.

"What for? All they'll tell me is to do this and not go to sleep and I already took some painkillers." He waved at the himself with his free hand. "Besides, we don't have time for hospitals right now."

"If you aren't feeling one hundred percent, you need to tell me. You know that, right?" Race stated with a seriousness that caused Phil to smirk; Race interrupted the look as something akin to a pride, as if Phil was impressed that Race was taking charge.

Phil gave him a nod which Race took as the other man's acceptance of Race's position; thanks to Phil's blunder and resulting injuries, he was handing over command of the rest of the mission to Race.

A knock at the door interrupted them from further discussion of the topic. "I'll get it." Race said as he stood, keeping Phil off of his feet as much as possible to give him as much time as possible to recover.

Opening the door, Race was met by the brunette woman from the Symposium and INTERPOL Inspector Kovar. Stepping aside to let them enter, he introduced himself, "My name is Race Bannon, come in please."

The woman gave him a nod and stepped inside. Race felt the aura of confidence that she exuded, but she faltered momentarily when she saw Phil seated on the couch. Even after showering and changing he still looked beat to hell. "What happened to you? Lieutenant Martinek didn't mention you were hurt."

Phil smiled half-heartedly as the woman came over and sat at his side. "I was an idiot and this is the result."

"Vostok did this to you?" She asked with concern, taking his free hand in hers.

Phil nodded and Race saw the man's eyes shift slightly; he was obviously embarrassed. "Yes, but that doesn't matter right now."

With a comforting look, Alena squeezed his hand then turned her attention to the others in the room. "Where do we begin?"

"I'm sorry," Race started, "But Phil hasn't told us who you are." Then he added for his partner's benefit, "Given his condition, I'm sure it just slipped his mind."

Phil smiled at Race as Alena answered, "I am Alena Stasny, I work at Parliament here in Praha. I am also a junior member on the defense committee board."

"Is that how you were able to get military support so quickly?" Jade asked.

A short smile spread across the other woman's lips, "Well, not exactly. My father is a retired Army Colonel that served with the Castle Garrison as his last assignment. When Phil told me what happened the other night at the Garrison and then when he asked for help this morning, I contacted my father. Let's just say he remembers quite well what life was like under Communist rule and still has pull at the Castle."

Race nodded approvingly, "Nice work. We definitely appreciated the support."

"Vostok is a criminal and a murderer and he needs to be stopped." Alena stated with a fierceness that both Race and Jade approved of; after all the woman was trapped in the ball room at the Symposium just like the rest of them had been.

"He got away with the bomb." Phil said as he let go of Alena's hand so he could reposition his ice pack.

"Another dirty bomb?" Kovar asked, speaking up for the first time since entering the room. His behavior was reserved and Race assumed that the man had been given a stern ass chewing by his superiors, Alena, or more than likely both.

"We have to assume it is." Race stated. "We're pretty sure he plans to attack the opening ceremonies for your celebrations tomorrow morning. He's had to alter his original plans and this target seems the most likely as he can inflict a high number of causalities while also making his political statement as well."

"Attacking the celebrations of our country's freedom from Communist rule." Alena mumbled. "Sounds like a definite way to make a statement."

"It makes sense." Race stated forlornly. He could tell that the idea was upsetting to the woman as well as Kovar. "Lieutenant Martinek suggested, and I agree, that we do not stop the celebrations, but beef up security at the event. If the celebration is canceled Vostok will just go into hiding and we will lose him and the bomb."

"He doesn't know that we know the ceremony is his target which still leaves us with the upper hand." Phil said. Race had assumed that Phil had held out against his captors and his statement now confirmed it. Yet, Race did plan to have a private chat with the other man once the entire ordeal was over, just to make sure Vostok didn't do any long term damage to Corbin's psyche.

"So what do you gentlemen propose we do?" Kovar asked grimly.

"We need to get as many police and military personnel at that ceremony as possible, both uniformed and undercover." Race started. "Also, any preparations being made tonight need to be guarded as well. We know what Vostok and Yasimov look like, but they are both ex-KGB and masters of disguise."

"One thing we don't know is who else they may enlist to emplace and or detonate the bomb." Phil added. "All of Vostok's men were either killed or arrested at the farmhouse, to include his bomb maker, but we don't know if he had others in reserve at a secondary location or on standby, ready to be called upon when needed."

"It would seem plausible that he would." Alena added. "But if not, would he detonate the device himself?"

"Vostok is not the type that would sacrifice himself, so no, I don't think he would." Phil said. "He'd force someone else to do it and I doubt it'd be Yasimov either. Those two are too close."

"Which makes things even more difficult. He could use a suicide bomber or he could just emplace the device and detonate it remotely if his bomb maker wired it in such a way." Race stated.

"So we'll be looking for needles in the haystack." Jade quipped.

"Either way he'll want to get as close to as many people as possible as well as any government officials or event organizers. Will the ceremony be taking place on or near a stage?" Race continued on.

Alena nodded, "Yes. They are setting it up tonight. The entire celebration is spread out throughout the city over the course of the festival, however the opening and closing ceremonies will take place on a stage at Wenceslas Square."

"I'd say that's more than likely Vostok's primary target." Jade interjected.

Race nodded his agreement. "How many snipers are at your disposal, Ms. Stasny?"

"Please, call me Alena. Between the police and the Garrison I can probably have at least half a dozen positioned around the ceremony."

"If they can cover all fields of fire that should work." Race liked what he was hearing so far.

"On top of them, we should be able to get twenty to thirty undercover men and women as well. I cannot deplete the entire Garrison force as they still have their primary duties at the Castle."

"Understood. Inspector Kovar?"

"My office has ten INTERPOL agents available at the moment." Kovar responded.

"Just under fifty of us then." Race surmised. "I hate to ask this, but how many people are you anticipating being at this ceremony?"

"Thousands." Alena replied gravely.

"I was afraid that would be the answer." Race stroked his chin as he spoke. Looking up he realized, once again, that the rest of the group was looking to him for guidance. Glancing at Phil for help, he saw that his partner was still wavering in and out of focus, the effects of the concussion taking its toll on him. Race just hoped that Corbin would be well enough to be effective by the morning, but for now he knew his partner was no good for the rest of the night which meant Race was in the lead.

"Alright, well this is the plan." He started as the rest of the group turned their undivided attention to him. "Myself and Jade will head out this evening and check out the area near where the ceremony will be held. How quickly can you get people in place there, Alena?"

"Besides those that are already there, within the hour."

"Good." Race replied with a nod.

"I will get my people ready and meet you at the Square, Agent Bannon." Inspector Kovar stated.

"After we've determined that all is in place for the evening, I'll figure out the next course of action. Jade, can you have your contacts make inquiries as to where Vostok might be holed up for the night? He has to be close. Perhaps, if we can find him tonight, we can take him out before he even has a chance to implement his plan."

"Will do." Jade stood as she fished her phone from her pocket to get Gregor moving once again; if Gregor wanted to be paid Jade was going to ensure she got the most from the man as possible.

"What about me?" Phil asked, however by the look on his face, Race could tell Corbin already knew the answer.

"You need to stay here." Race said and before Phil could object Race raised his hand and continued, "You're in no condition to be out and about and you know it. However, do you think you can establish a computer link with the Garrison and the local police in order to tap into the CCTV footage at Wenceslas Square? That way we can monitor throughout the night."

Phil grumbled, but did not openly object; he knew Race was right, he hadn't thought his inability to focus was apparent to the others, but it was obvious at least to Race. "I'll see what I can do." He replied without protest.

"I can help with that." Alena offered, shooting a smile in Phil's direction. Her concern for him was evident and even with the throbbing pain in his head, Phil could tell she wanted to ensure he was okay and not leave him by himself. He was fine with the plan as well as he was hoping for some alone time with Alena.

"Thank you, Alena." Phil replied.

Standing Race made his statement. "Alright, let's get to work. The sooner we can get everything established the sooner we can regroup and figure out what to do next. I have a feeling Vostok isn't going to do anything tonight, but if he does we need to be ready. And even if he doesn't, we still need to be ready, but also get some rest for tomorrow. One way or the other, this ordeals ends tomorrow."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Arm in arm, Race and Jade made their way down to Wenceslas Square. Inspector Kovar had ensured that the personnel working at the site knew that Race and Jade would be coming, however they still wanted to keep up appearances just in case Vostok or any of his people were watching the area.

"So you think we'll be able to stop this?" Jade asked.

Race heard the doubt in her voice. "We have to stay positive. Thousands of people are depending on us."

"I know," Jade sighed. "This has been a lot to digest in the last couple of days."

"You're telling me!" Race exclaimed. "Don't think I've forgotten that you did smack me in the head with a baton a few nights ago and now here we are, walking arm in arm, trying to stop an international terrorist from murdering thousands of innocent people."

"That's not all we've done." Jade replied slyly, which resulted in a low chuckle from Race. "Speaking of extracurricular activities, what do you think of Phil and Alena?"

"What do you mean?" Race questioned, but he knew what she meant.

"You know what I mean." Jade giggled.

"I really don't know Phil all that well." Race confessed. "I only met him just before this assignment. In fact you've technically known him longer than I have. But regardless, he and Alena are adults and if they're happy, then I'm happy for them."

"I think they're cute together." Jade stated.

"Cute is not a word I would have thought to hear from you." Race joked.

"Bannon, you should know by now that I'm full of surprises."

"Very true." Race mumbled. Jade's statement reminded him that she still hadn't been completely honest with him in regards to why she was in Prague to begin with. Cataloguing the information in the back of his mind, Race was determined, once Vostok was stopped, to find out just what Jade was really after.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alena handed Phil a mug of coffee as she sat back down on the couch. "Thanks." He smiled as he took a sip of the brew before setting it down on the end table.

"Of course," Alena replied. After the rest of the team had left she had decided to get a bit more comfortable. Having kicked off her heels she nestled up beside Phil as he concentrated on the laptop in front of him, working to make the connection with the local Prague police. "I just hope it helps."

Leaning back, he sighed, "I need to stay awake so it will definitely help."

Taking a chance, Alena tenderly ran a finger along the side of Phil's head, through his short, dark hair behind his ear and asked, "How did Vostok manage to do these horrible things to you?"

"I was stupid and reckless." Phil averted his eyes as he replied. He had only told her about the beating and the water torture. He couldn't bring himself to mention Vostok's _other_ threats. "But I learned my lesson."

"How bad does it hurt?" Alena asked.

Smirking, Phil replied. "Vostok's fists felt like four-by-fours breaking against my face. Needless to say, it still hurts."

Placing a hand on his chest, Alena gently pushed him back against the couch. A smile spread across Phil's lips as Alena moved closer, straddling his legs so she sat on his lap, facing him. Leaning in and kissing him softly, she said, "Perhaps this will help alleviate the pain."

Running his hands along her thighs, he pushed her skirt slightly upward as they locked lips once again. As their kiss deepened, Phil moaned lowly, "I think it's helping."

Leaning back, Alena smiled and said, "Well then we should keep going." Then melted back into him, feeling his strong hands caressing her with desire.

With one hand still massaging her inner thigh, Phil reached up with the other and brushed a lone lock of hair back behind Alena' ear. Leaning forward, he grazed her neck with his lips, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Alena as her fingers worked to unbutton his shirt then push the garment from his shoulders, running her hands up and down his muscled chest and torso, grazing her nails ever so slightly against his skin.

Phil groaned as their lips met once again. "Let's keep going." Wrapping his arms around Alena, he rotated his hips and lifted so as to move on top of her as she pressed herself against him, "Let's definitely keep going." He breathed into her ear as his own hands worked to remove his lover's blouse.

"Yes." She exhaled, her breathing labored and heavy, her hands exploring his body, as his arousal made her yearn for him with heightened anticipation. "Oh yes."

The laptop dinged, indicating the downloaded link was complete, however neither Phil nor Alena took notice.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As he inspected the stage, Race heard the heavy footfalls and distinct grumbles of Inspector Kovar approaching. Groaning inwardly, he had hoped that he wouldn't have to deal directly with the INTERPOL man, but with Phil back at the hotel and Race in charge, he had no choice.

Standing and stretching his weary muscles, Race put on his best smile and turned to meet the older man who was accompanied by a uniformed police officer named Major Horak. Race shook the man's hand then turned his attention to Kovar, who wore his customary frown as he also shook hands with the young I-1 Agent. "Any news, Inspector?"

Grunting Kovar wiped his brow, even on the cold November night, the big man was sweating. "I've been detailed seven personnel. I thought I could get more, but headquarters is already being a pain in my ass with seven. Without any evidence that shows Vostok has another bomb, they are hesitant of assigning all personnel to the ceremony tomorrow."

Race nodded; It appeared that INTERPOL suffered from the same bureaucratic red tape that did nothing put piss off agents on the ground that needed the support, just like in Intelligence One.

"It's better than none." Race responded, hoping he sounded encouraging. "With your personnel working alongside the local police and Garrison soldiers we should be able to keep this area under constant surveillance."

"At least Wenceslas Square is fairly well contained. It'll be hard for Vostok to make his way to the stage or near the National Museum without being noticed." Jade added as her eyes wandered to the alley where she had hidden to avoid Corbin when she had first arrived. "But come to think of it, we need to ensure there are people covering all the alleyways that lead in and out of the Square."

"Good thinking." Race nodded.

"That's shouldn't be a problem." Major Horak said. "We can have uniformed police blocking off those areas."

"Anything else we need to know?" Race asked the assembled group.

The police Major adjusted his weapon belt as he replied, "I will have personnel on site from now until the opening ceremony, but the evening shifts will be minimally manned. MP Stasny was quite convincing in regards to concentrating the bulk of our efforts at this location tomorrow. My Commander is fully committed to stopping this Vostok and bringing him to justice for his crimes."

The Major's words brought to Race's mind what Phil had said about killing Vostok on sight. Either way, his primary goal was to stop the bombing, whether Vostok lived or died as a result, well that was not as important to the determined Agent as the former.

With the plan in place, Inspector Kovar headed back his office while Major Horak left to check on the officers that were already on guard duty at the moment. Alone once again, Jade leaned in close to Race. Gazing into his crystal blue eyes, Jade hummed in a low, seductive tone, "You ready to get out of here for the evening?"

Smiling down at her, still mesmerized by the woman's mystifying aura, Race ran a finger under her chin, then tilted his head down to plant a warm, aching kiss upon her lips. Jade returned the kiss, moaning with delightful bliss, before Race pulled back and said, "I just want to check out a few more things."

Pushing back from him in feinted hurt, Jade shot him a look at said, "You're such a tease, Bannon."

Responding with a short chuckle, he replied, "Yeah, well, you're not the only one who gets to do all the taunting."

With a huff, Jade grinned, "Well, let's get going before I decide to start taunting some other tall, handsome and perfectly muscled man."

"Yeah, good luck finding another Race Bannon." Race laughed as they began walking up the steps of the National Museum.

"Oh, you're not vain at all," Jade threw her head back with a sarcastic laugh. "Just my type of man."

"Believe it, babe."

As the daunting reality of Vostok's plans loomed over the young couple like the tell-tale black clouds of an approaching storm, Race's thoughts took on a grim tone. Even though he had been successful at the Symposium with disarming the first bomb, there was always the knowledge of what he must do in the event that he could not perform the necessary tasks. Race Bannon knew, and more importantly, was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice if need be to not only stop General Vostok, but also save the lives of countless innocent civilians.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Race found himself staring at Jade, his mysterious and not always forthcoming companion, but also his newfound love interest.

"What?" She asked, her eyes shifting with a nervous mischievousness caused by his piercing gaze.

"Nothing," Race said before kissing her once again. As their lips once again separated he continued, "I was just thinking and no matter what happens, I'm very happy to be spending this evening with you."

Wanting to reply with a snarky comeback to the man's sudden romantic prose, Jade found that she was unable to do so. Her feelings for Race Bannon had flourished so quickly over the course of a few days; feelings that she had never felt for another man before. She only hoped that no matter what happened, Race Bannon would remain a constant in her life to come.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 13**

Throwing open the French doors of his room's balcony, Vostok inhaled deeply, taking in the rich, pre-dawn country air. Closing his eyes as the cool breeze brushed against his cheeks, he enjoyed the moment of peaceful calm, thinking back to his days as a young boy. Growing up in a similar environment on the outskirts of Moscow, the tranquility of the country would spawn a calmness within him as he prepared for whatever obstacles he had chosen to face on a particular day.

A loud knock pulled the big Russian from his thoughts. Frowning he left the balcony and opened the door for Colonel Yasimov.

"Is everything ready, Colonel?" Vostok asked, instantly focused on the task at hand.

Nikolai nodded as he entered the room carrying an old, leather style suitcase., "Yes, General. All has been prepared."

"And the bodies?"

Setting the suitcase down on Vostok's bed, Yasimov smiled wickedly. "They have been properly disposed of. If they are discovered it will be too late, we will have already succeeded with our plan."

Lips curling upward into a thin line, Vostok grinned. "Good. Now let us prepare."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shielding his eyes against the intense glare of the morning sun, Race scanned the already growing crowd that filtered into Wenceslas Square. Sliding his sunglasses on, he titled his head upward to observe the rooftops of the buildings that enclosed the Square. He knew that there were both police and Garrison snipers positioned throughout the area and he smiled at the fact that they had concealed themselves well enough not to be seen.

Each member of the impromptu task force, whether a sniper, uniformed or plains-clothed officer was equipped with radio communication devices and armed. Race had even convinced Corbin to give Jade one of the I-1 earpieces so the three could maintain their own communication channel, separate from that of the Czech forces. Corbin acquiesced, but only after insisting that Jade return the device immediately upon the completion of the mission. With her seductively best smile, she agreed and grinned as Phil grumbled and headed off to check in with Major Horak before heading to his assigned position atop the most Northwestern building of the cordoned off celebration area. From his position, he'd have a clear view of the entire length of the Square all the way to the National Museum.

While the veteran agent had at first attempted to protest his duty, wanting to be on the ground near the stage, Race had to remind Corbin that the man's injuries were still fresh and that acting as both over-watch and an additional sniper added an additional set of eyes that could prove invaluable. Once the Czechs had handed Phil a modified M14 rifle with high powered sights and sound suppressor, he smiled and headed off to his position.

Grumbling, Race watched as the crowd seemed to grow larger and larger with each passing moment. He made his way towards the stage, shouldering past the throngs of locals and tourists alike. As he approached, he observed the celebration's organizers making a number of last minute preparations to the platform before the opening ceremonial speech, given by the Mayor of Prague, was scheduled to take place in just over an hour.

Meeting up with the third part of the ad hoc team, Race shot Jade a lop-sided grin. Arching an eyebrow, he said, "Are you ready for whatever might happen?"

"I'm right here by your side, handsome. I may play by my own rules, but one thing we agree on is that murdering innocent people is just wrong."

Race knew that Jade, flirtatious disposition and secretive nature aside, was an ally that he could rely on to watch his back even in such trying and dangerous situations that they were all currently facing.

"Just be ready for anything." Race stated.

"I'm planning to make it out of here in one piece, Bannon." Jade laughed, yet Race picked up on the subtle nervousness in her voice; she was scared. "And I'm hoping you do as well. I have so many things I fantasize about doing to you."

Blushing, Race got the conversation back on topic, "Agreed, sexy. But for now, let's get our heads focused."

"Alright, where do you need me?" Jade asked, slipping a switch from playful teasing to serious business in a blink of an eye.

Jerking a thumb over his shoulder he replied, "Head over towards the back of the stage, near the steps of the Museum and just keep your eyes and ears open. Any sign of suspicious activity or possible sighting of Vostok or Yasimov, immediately radio us. I'll be in the crowd near the stage."

"Got it, handsome." Jade gave Race a quick peck on the cheek and winked before heading off in the direction he had indicated.

After watching her go, he once again returned to scanning the crowd. "Alright, Vostok. Where the hell are you?" He mumbled under his breath.

Once Jade disappeared into the crowd he keyed his communication device to radio Phil, "Are you in position?"

" _Affirmative."_ Corbin replied.

"See anything yet?"

" _Negative."_ Corbin replied. _"This crowd is huge. Finding Vostok will be like finding a needle in a haystack. Especially if he is in disguise."_

"How's your line of sight?"

 _"I can see all the way from here to the stage. Our overlapping fields of fire cover all blind spots, to include the alleyways as they open up onto the Square."_ Phil reported.

Race appreciated his partner's professional report. Assimilating and assessing the information immediately, he ordered, "Concentrate your scans on and near the stage, it'll be his primary target if he wants to kill Prague's leaders."

" _Understood."_

Race heard the slight waver in the other agent's voice which Race chalked up to Phil's concern for Alena Stasny. As much as Corbin had tried to convince his friend to stay away from the ceremony she had refused, insisting that not only was it her duty to her people, but she would not allow Vostok force her into hiding through fear and terror. Race and Phil both knew that Alena would be on the stage during the Mayor's opening remarks.

Finding a spot just off to the left, Race settled in and began his own observation routine. If Vostok was going to strike, it would be here, Race felt it in his gut. He also knew that if they couldn't locate and stop the Russian from detonating his device, not only would it cause a massive catastrophic situation here, but it could launch the world powers into a potentially deadly conflict.

' _Exactly what Vostok wants.'_ Race told himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You all know your instructions." Vostok stated with a militaristic tone that demanded obedience.

In unison, he was answered with a resounding and thunderous, "Yes, Sir!"

Gathered just on the outskirts of the city, Vostok had assembled a handful of loyalists that were ready to replace those that the Americans and Czechs had killed or arrested at the farmhouse. While he only had six men left, not including himself and Yasimov, he knew that these six men would die for him without hesitation or question, just like those he had lost the day before. The loss of those men angered the General, yet that anger fueled his determination to see his plans through to the end.

Colonel Yasimov had recommended cancelling the attack; instead taking the bio-agent and bomb and either attacking another location or waiting until the pressure from the Americans died down in order to strike unmolested. Vostok had bristled at the suggestion and if any other man beside Yasimov had made such statements, he would have throttled him to death under to auspice of cowardice. But Vostok knew Yasimov was no coward and had only suggested such action as a means to outsmart the American Intelligence agents.

Even though he didn't agree with Yasimov's suggestions, Vostok knew that on some level they had made sense. However, he was the type of man that, once a plan was set in motion, he was determined to see it through and backing out now would be, in Vostok's eyes, a win for the Americans and he would be damned if he was going to allow that to happen.

Looking at each man in turn, Vostok began his monologue. "Comrades, today we shall all bear witness to the power and might of Mother Russia. No longer will we sit in the shadows, subservient to the demands of the West. Today, those that were once our allies, but decided to run and form allegiances with the American scum, will feel what happens when they disavow the Motherland. Their flesh will burn from our wrath! Wrath brought about by the deaths of our brothers and sisters. Deaths brought about at the hands of the American dogs that even now try to stop us. No longer will we lie down with their boots upon our necks. No, Comrades! It is _our_ boots that will be pressed against _their_ weak and fragile throats! Prague will only be the beginning! After today the world will know that Russia remains strong and her sons do not take lightly the slight that America and its allies have bestowed upon us. We are strong, my brothers, and we will reclaim what is rightfully ours! The blood of our enemies will flow through the streets of Prague today as they celebrate the anniversary of their foolish Revolution. Kill any one that stands in our way. Should you survive, you can say that you were there at the beginning. You were there when Russia reclaimed what is hers! The streets run red with the blood of the traitors. Let them die painfully alongside their American friends. As they breathe their last, pitiful breaths, let them question their decision to insult the Motherland and ally themselves with the West. The weak and deplorable West! The plague, _our new plague_ , shall bring the world to its knees, forcing it to bow down to the might of the Motherland! For Russia, by Brothers! For glory!"

A cacophony of shouts rang out from his loyal troupe. Synchronized shouts of "For Russia! For Glory!" echoed through the morning breeze as the men jammed balled up fists into the air, motivated by their General's illustrious speech. Even Colonel Yasimov, usually a stoic representative of the Soviet Officer Corps, joined in the motivational chant with their men.

Grinning with pride, Vostok motioned with his hands, bringing his men's exuberant cheers back down to a low rumble before they quieted down altogether. "Now, Comrades, your mission is to ensure that I have adequate time and space to emplace the device. Should any man or woman take an interest in me, you are to eliminate that person immediately. We do not wish to draw attention to ourselves until the moment of our revealed glory, so use the weaponry and skills you have perfected throughout your faithful service to the Motherland. Kill them quickly and swiftly, but silently and without prejudice. Show them no mercy as they will show you no mercy in return. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." The men replied in absolute unison.

"Once I have placed the device we will have only minutes to fall back to a safe position. Ensure that you do so and do whatever is necessary to exfiltrate the Square quickly. Move to your pre-designated locations and you will be met by another comrade that will reward you for your service and return you to the Motherland or onward to the next mission if you so desire to continue within my service."

Nods of understanding from each man was enough to satisfy General Vostok that his group, while small, was devoted to the cause. He would ensure that each man was rewarded handsomely for his steadfast devotion to the restoration of Russia's might. If they did not survive, just like his other men, he would see to it that their families back in the homeland were well taken care of; loyalty deserved loyalty in return.

"I am proud to call you all my comrades; my brothers. The Motherland shall celebrate all of you for your actions today. Now, we move."

Turning to face his second in command, Vostok clasped the Colonel's shoulder with one hand while he snuggly fitted his stole Police cap onto his bald pate with the other. "It is time, Nikolai."

With a nod, Yasimov replied, "Yes, General. It is time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _"I_ _wish we could have gotten the police to prevent people from carrying bags into this thing."_

Race heard the annoyance in his partner's voice as he walked casually through the crowd near the front of the stage. "I know what you mean, pal, but it was too late for that."

 _"One can always wish."_ Phil replied.

Race grinned. He imagined what his partner must look like, crouching behind his rifle, scanning the crowd through his scope, hoping that by nothing more than sheer luck he'd get a bead on Vostok so he could take the big Russian out with a single shot, ending the entire ordeal before it even started.

"Just let me know if you see anything suspicious, alright?" Race shot back.

 _"I know how to do my job, Race."_ Phil joked in return.

"Sure you do, Corbin," Race mocked lightly, "That's why you have a bruise roughly the size and shape of Wisconsin on the side of that ugly mug of yours right now."

 _"Piss off, Bannon,"_ Phil retorted, _"I'm not ugly."_

"Would you two keep the chit chat down?" Jade interjected. "I feel like I'm listening in on a couple of teenage girls right now."

 _"I told you we shouldn't have given her a comm unit."_ Phil threw in.

Race laughed as his attention was drawn towards the stage. It appeared that the workers were making the final preparations for the Mayor's speech. "Stay alert." He commanded, shutting down the team's lighthearted banter and refocusing their attention to the task at hand. "It looks like they are about the start."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Walking along the southern most street that ran perpendicular to the Square, Vostok strode purposefully towards the mouth of the closest alleyway, which was currently blocked off with a Police marked sawhorse and guarded by a single uniformed police officer. Vostok smirked at the incompetency of the Czechs; a single officer would be no match for his man.

As he approached the man, whose thumbs were currently tucked into the top of his utility belt, the General noted the man's bored stature and knew that bypassing the officer would be no problem.

Seeing Vostok approach, the officer straightened slightly, but kept his hands in front of him. Vostok's stolen Police Lieutenant's uniform was enough to keep the officer at ease just long enough for the General 's man to move in. Even the small, black gym bag that he carried did not set off any warning alarms with the young officer. Internally, Vostok scoffed at the man's incompetence.

"Report, officer." Vostok stated in Czech as he walked up to the man.

"Nothing to report as of yet, Sir." The officer replied. "All quiet here."

"Are you sure?" Vostok asked, toying with the man.

A strange look encroached upon the officer's face as he studied Vostok. Just as a flash of surprise betrayed the officer's sudden recognition of his foe, one of Vostok's men walked up from behind. In one fluid motion, the Russian loyalist reached up, wrapped his hand around the policeman's mouth, then slid a sharpened blade across the stunned man's throat, causing the young policeman to convulse and twitch as his life blood gushed out of his body. The entire episode had only taken seconds, the officer's shocked and terrified scream drowned out by the Russian soldier's tightened grip upon his mouth.

Keeping the policeman's dead body secure, Vostok's man moved behind the sawhorse, dragging the dead officer into the shadows along with him. Once the officer was concealed among the darkened corners, Vostok smiled at the man and said, "Now, comrade, ensure the rest of the alleyway, from here to the Square, is clear."

"Yes, Sir." The man's reply was devoid of emotion, as if having just murdered a police officer was no more of a concern than crossing the street or swatting at a troublesome mosquito.

As the pair entered the alley, Vostok unclipped the radio from his belt. Keying the mic, he called to Yasimov, "Nikolai, are you in position?"

 _"Yes, General."_ The reply was almost immediate. Yasimov had also donned a stolen police uniform. The rest of the men were dressed in civilian clothes to be disguised as tourists and locals, minus one other who also wore a police uniform.

"Do you see the Americans?"

 _"No, Sir, but I have no doubt they are here."_ Yasimov stated. _"The rest of the men are intermingled with the crowd. If anyone approaches either you or myself they will see and strike."_

"Good." Vostok said. "I am moving into position now. Once the Mayor takes the stage I will emplace the device then give the signal. We are only minutes away from our deserved glory and recognition, Nikolai."

 _"Make us proud, Sir."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jade kept her head moving as if on a swivel. Stationed to the rear of the stage, she was responsible for ensuring that no suspicious characters lurked about. Race had instructed that even the slightest hint of suspicious activity was to be reported immediately. However, up to this point, Jade had seen nobody more than the normal stage and sound crew members. However, every now and then a lost tourist wandered in her direction in search of either a port-a-john or vendor stand. Even the couple of local teenagers that crept behind the stage to make out and smoke a joint, but none of the incidents equated to a level of alarm for Jade; she knew the difference between reality and false agents masquerading as bumbling nobodies.

"Are we sure he's going to strike here?" Jade asked into the mic.

 _"If he doesn't then he's gone."_ Race replied. _"Just stay vigilant, both of you."_

With a sigh, Jade replied with just a hint of playful cynicism, "Yes, Sir."

 _"Nothing from my end."_ Phil reported. Jade frowned. It was as if she could hear the pretentious smirk in Corbin's response. Even with all they had been through during this ordeal she could tell the I-1 agent still did not trust her. And for some reason that bothered her.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Jade shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts of frustration, annoyance, and anger from her mind. Opening her eyes a moment later, her gaze was drawn towards the teenage lovebirds. The young couple was engaged in what appeared to be a heated exchange with one of the uniformed police officers.

"Hold on," Jade said into the mic. "I might have something."

 _"What is it?"_ Race asked.

"I'm behind the stage. A couple of teens making out are arguing with a cop."

 _"I'm headed your way."_ Race reported.

 _"I don't have line of sight,"_ Phil chimed in. _"Let me check with the other teams. Standby."_

As Jade approached, she heard raised voices arguing in a language she didn't quite understand. She didn't recognize the officer, but she also had not met every member of the task force either. Moving forward with caution, she kept her hands visible, not wanting to alarm the policeman.

"Is there a problem here?" She asked in English, knowing that most young people in Prague spoke, or at least understood, basic English.

The cop turned to look at her. He was young, with blonde hair and dark green eyes, strikingly similar to the colors of deep rich hues of a moss that blanketed a forest floor, rarely seeing the brightening rays of the sun.

"No problem, Ma'am." The officer reported. Turning his attention back to the teens, the officer barked at them in their native tongue, causing the kids to scurry off to the front of the stage. "I am sorry about that. Kids nowadays." The officer shrugged, then moved off in the same direction as the kids.

Exhaling, Jade realized that not only was she holding her breath, but she found her hand hovering behind her back, just over the concealed handgun that was tucked away at the small of her back. "Looks like a false alarm." She reported. Just as she finished speaking the words, the amps on the stage boomed, projected the Mayor's jovial and ecstatic voice out into the crowd of gathered onlookers and celebratory patrons.

"Damnit."

Jade jumped at the voice, not realizing that Race had moved alongside of her behind the stage. "You scared the living daylights out of me." She proclaimed, smacking him harmlessly in the chest. Seeing the seriousness in his eyes, she said, "I'm sorry, I thought it might be something, but it was just a couple of kids making out."

"Let's get back to our positions." Race stated.

 _"Heads up,"_ Phil's voice announced with a tone of seriousness that made Race reach for his weapon.

"What is it?" Race probed as his feet instinctively carried him back towards his previous position with Jade directly on his heels.

 _"Possible identification,"_ Phil said. _"Standby."_

"Damnit, Phil." Race growled. "What do you see?"

 _"Team Three thinks they may have sighted Yasimov. Standby for confirmation."_ Phil reported, unperturbed by Race's tone. Seconds later, _"I think its him. However, one hundred percent positive identification not possible. No shot."_

Race heard the disappointment in Phil's voice as he spoke the last two words. He knew his partner wanted his revenge on Yasimov and Vostok for what they had done to him, but he also knew Corbin was a professional and would adhere to the rules of engagement above all else. For that Race was thankful; the last thing he needed was a loose cannon on his team.

"Keep him in your sights." Race said. "Have your spotter watching."

 _"Got it, Bannon."_

"What about the other teams? Any sightings of Vostok?" Race asked as he quickened his pace. Completely focused on his current task, he drowned out the Mayor's speech as it boomed through the speakers, encouraging and motivating the gathered crowd, recalling the key moments in the country's history that let them to the pivotal point in history that would become known as the Velvet Revolution.

 _"Negative."_ Phil said after a moment which Race assumed Corbin had taken to gather SPOT reports from the other sniper teams.

"Keep Yasimov in your crosshairs. Have your man walk me in." Race ordered.

 _"WILCO."_ Phil replied.

Looking at Jade, Race placed his hands on her shoulders, "Stay near the stage. They're here. It's happening."

With a curt nod, Jade signaled her understanding. "Stay safe, Race."

"You too, Jade." Race smiled then moved out, following the directions of his over-watch partner.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Phil kept the butt of the M14 nestled comfortably in the pocket of his shoulder as he tracked the blonde haired man that lingered just a few paces from the horse statue. Without moving his head, he adjusted the knobs on his scope as he spoke, "You have Bannon?"

"Yes, Sir." The Garrison soldier replied. The trooper had set down his rifle and taken up a pair of sighting binoculars. He picked up Race in his sights and watched as the white-haired American waded through the crowd in the direction of the Russian suspect. "But you should just shoot him now."

"I can't positively ID him." Phil replied. "Believe me, Sergeant. I'd love nothing more than to put a round right between this bastard's eyes."

"He is dressed like a police officer." The Sergeant responded.

"I know." Phil agreed.

"He is a fraud. A fraud and a murderer."

"Trust me, Sergeant, if Bannon gives me a confirmation from the ground, he's dead within a second." Phil breathed, keeping his sights glued to the suspect on the ground, never allowing his crosshairs to wander off of the man. "But I cannot fire without one hundred percent confirmation."

"Sometimes rules are so frustrating." The man grumbled.

Phil let out an abrupt laugh. "No kidding, my friend. But rules are what separate us from them. Remember that."

"Yes, Sir." The Sergeant's reply sounded deflated, but he did as he was told and started walking Race in towards the man they suspected was Colonel Yasimov.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nikolai turned away from the stage as he saw the white-haired American approach. "One is coming my way, General." He spoke into his hidden mic as he briskly walked off in a roughly Northern direction, leading his adversary away from the stage.

"Good, Nikolai." Vostok stated. "Keep leading him away. What of the other? What of Agent Corbin?"

Yasimov huffed his displeasure as he walked away from the horse statue. "I have not seen him, General. Only his white haired confederate. He is the one currently following me."

"No matter," Vostok replied with a calm and cool voice. "Lead him away. If the other American has not succumbed to the injuries we've already inflicted upon him he will suffer the same fate as the rest of the traitors gathered here today. I am headed towards the stage."

"Yes, General." Nikolai replied. "I will take pleasure in seeing these American dogs die such painful deaths."

"That makes both of us, Colonel." Vostok growled. "Now go. As soon as you are the required distance away, I will drop the bomb. On my signal you will detonate the device. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." Yasimov replied.

"For the Motherland." Vostok proclaimed.

"For the Motherland." Yasimov affirmed as he withdrew the detonation device and held it firmly in his grip.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 14**

"Where is he?" Race grumbled into his radio, speaking directly with the Garrison soldier on the roof.

 _"Moving North along the Square. He is dressed as a police officer."_ Came the reply. _"Move North by Northwest. You are still behind him."_

Keying his internal I-1 comms unit, Race spoke to Phil, "Do you still see him?"

 _"Yes."_

"Is it Yasimov?" The fact that their enemies appeared to be dressed as police officers made the entire situation that much more complicated. Not knowing how many men might be with Vostok, Race realized that he could no longer rely on the police, not knowing who might be friend or foe.

 _"I think so, but he has his cap pulled down low over his eyes. Even if it is him I can't shoot, he's wedged himself in fairly well with the crowd."_

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as Race took a brief second to assimilate what was happening. His gut was telling him that something was definitely wrong. "Phil, is he carrying a bag?"

 _"Negative."_

"Damnit." Spinning back towards the stage, Race's instincts were right; Yasimov was leading him away from the main target. "Jade, get over here and stay with Yasimov. Grab Kovar if you can find him."

 _"Moving your way."_ Jade responded.

"Phil, keep with the Colonel for now. Have your spotter search the crowd near the stage for Vostok. Find out what the hell the rest of your snipers see and report back to me. If any of you see Vostok, readjust your targeting from Yasimov to Vostok. Understood?"

 _"Roger."_ Phil replied.

After a quick glance back in the Yasimov's direction, Race focused his attention back towards the stage. He hadn't realized he had moved so far off from the area. Pushing through the crowd, he made his way back to where he believed Vostok was headed. As he moved he bumped into Jade, who had found Kovar and one of his men.

Turning and pointing towards Yasimov's last position, Race let loose a string of commands. "Pick up Yasimov and watch him. He's trying to lead us away from the stage. We can't trust the police anymore as we have no idea how many of them might be Vostok's men in disguise. If Yasimov runs then nab him, don't let him get away. If he attacks, then take him out. Phil is still watching him for now, but he can readjust as needed. I don't know about the rest of the teams, but the man with Corbin is Garrison."

"Can we trust Garrison?" Kovar asked, unhappy with the news about the police.

"We have to for now." Race said, but the Inspector's question worried him. "Now move."

As Jade and Kovar moved away, Race keyed his internal comm unit, "Phil, be careful up there. If Vostok has infiltrated the police force, he might have men disguised as soldiers as well."

 _"Understood."_ Was all the other agent said in reply. Race was glad they had their own internal communications, at this point he didn't know who to trust anymore.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stealing a glance over his shoulder, Yasimov saw the white-haired American moving back towards the stage. With a snort, Nikolai snatched his radio from his belt, "General, the American is moving back in your direction. It appears he figured out our tactic."

 _"Keep moving through the crowd,"_ Vostok's voice crackled through the mic. _"I am adjusting the plan."_

"Sir?"

 _"Do it, Nikolai! You shall see momentarily, but be ready to detonate on my command."_

"Yes, General." Clipping the radio back to his belt, Yasimov did as his General instructed. Turning in such a way as to keep the stage within his vision, he did not notice the dark-haired woman or older man following behind him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Strange." Jade mumbled as she watched Yasimov's body language. The Russian Colonel appeared confused and somewhat perturbed; whatever he had just been told over his radio was not what the blonde man had expected.

Cocking her head to the side, she indicated to Kovar, "We need to spread out and encircle him as best we can. I'll stay to his rear, you and your man move out to each side of him."

Kovar waved a hand at his agent to do as the woman said. "He is a dangerous man, Miss Jade." Kovar said once his man had moved off.

Smiling coyly, she replied, "I know how to deal with dangerous men. Now go."

With a nod, the INTERPOL man blended into the crowd.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jade edged closer to the Russian.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scowling, Vostok approached the side of the stage. Yasimov's report in regards to the American Intelligence Agent had put a damper on his initial plan of simply emplacing the bomb then detonating as they fell back to a save location. Now, the Americans had once again caused unnecessary headaches, their pestering behavior infuriating Vostok to the point that all he wanted to do was make as many people pay for their persistent interference at every turn.

Handing the gym bag to his man, he said, "Go get Yuri from behind the stage then place this in the secondary location."

"Yes, General." The man did as instructed, taking the bag then heading off. Withdrawing his pistol from its place on his belt with one hand he pulled a threaded sound suppressor from his pocket with the other. Screwing the device onto the end of his weapon and chambering a round, Vostok stepped towards the side of the structure, approaching the two policemen that guarded the stairs.

"Sir, is there a problem?" One of the men asked when they saw him approach.

Removing his stolen cap, he revealed himself to the men. "Only for you."

The shock on their faces was enough to satisfy Vostok as he raised his pistol and fired a single round into each man's head; they never even had a chance to draw their own sidearms. The quiet report of the weapon was drowned out by the Mayor's speech and Vostok smiled as he ascended the steps unmolested.

Striding up to the podium, located at center stage, Vostok basked in the frightened and shocked looks of the city and federal Government officials that sat in a row at the back of the stage. As he approached, the Mayor turned to face him, "Who are you? What are you doing?"

"I am the man that has come to reclaim what is mine." Vostok boomed, pointing his handgun at the Mayor and firing multiple rounds into the man's stomach and legs.

A cry of alarm and pain burst from the Mayor's throat as the rounds tore into his flesh, causing him to collapse in a bloodied heap.

"What is the meaning of this?" An older, grey-haired man asked as he stood.

Vostok replied by shooting the man in the chest.

Chaos erupted. People, both on the stage and on the ground, screamed and tried to run, not knowing what was happening, but having just witnessed a madman gun down two of their officials.

Reaching out, Vostok snagged the arm of an older female official that tried to get past him to safety. Clamping down hard on the lady's arm, she let out a cry as he whipped her around in front of him. Wrapping a muscular arm around her waist, he secured her firmly against his body, using her as a human shield. His voice gravelly and laced with hate, Vostok snarled in the woman's ear, "Now you will pay for your traitorous actions."

Moving towards the podium, Vostok stepped over the wounded Mayor and made his way to the microphone.

"People of Praha, remain calm!" Vostok shouted, but the crowd had panicked when he shot the Mayor and people currently screamed, shoved, and ran for safety. Vostok laughed at their scurrying attempts to escape, they had no idea about the bomb he was about to detonate.

"You're people are pathetic." Vostok spat when he could not gain the attention of the crowd. He had wanted to announce their doom, but realized that shooting the Mayor was probably foolish. _'No matter.'_ He thought to himself as he began to drag his captive towards the stage exit; a valuable hostage that could ensure his own escape if necessary. Of course once she was of no more use, he'd still make her pay for her crimes.

"You'll never get away with this!" The woman decreed as she struggled against Vostok's grasp.

"I already have." He replied with a wicked grin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Shit!" Race exclaimed as he watched Vostok climb on stage. "What the hell is he doing?" Pushing harder against the crowd, he made his way through the throng of bystanders that had no idea what was about to happen.

"Phil, he's on stage. Take him out!" Race ordered.

 _"No shot,"_ the anxiousness in his voice told Race that the other man had already seen Vostok and readjusted his aim accordingly. _"There's too many people behind him."_

"Fuck!" Race shouted. He knew what was preventing Phil from squeezing the trigger, any round fired from his high powered rifle could very well pass through the General and kill the people that were assembled on the stage. What Corbin needed was a clear shot with no obstacles and no collateral damage.

 _"Repositioning for a clear shot."_ Phil said as if reading Race's mind.

He didn't think he had to say it, but Race stated, "You get a clear shot, you take it. Got that, pal?"

 _"Got it."_ Phil replied.

He was only short distance away, but to Race it felt like miles. Keeping his eyes locked on the big Russian, he was helpless to act as the man shot the startled Mayor. Cursing, he kept moving against the wave on onlookers that were trying to get as far away from enraged Russian as possible. As most tried to flee from the stage, Race continued to move towards it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sir, over there."

"What?" Phil asked, concerned at the tone of the Sergeant's voice.

"Two men, one dressed as a police officer, with a black bag."

Raising his head up from his scope, Phil looked in the direction the Sergeant indicated, confirming what the young soldier saw. The two men were heading away from the stage, out into the crowd. _'Not good.'_ Phil thought.

"Keep on them," He ordered then speaking into the radio to the other sniper teams, he instructed. "Team Two, pick up the two men with the bag leaving the stage. Team Three, keep Vostok in your sights. Take the shot if you have it."

As soon as he heard confirmations from the other two teams, he returned his attention to his own sights, waiting for the moment he could get a shot.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As people rushed for safety, Jade jostled her way closer to Yasimov. The Colonel had turned his full attention towards the stage, appearing just as shocked by his General's actions as everyone else in the crowd.

A few paces away, Jade saw him reach into his pocket, withdrawing a cell phone. So far she had not seen anyone with the bomb, but she had to work on the assumption that it was somewhere either at the stage or in the crowd and that Yasimov was preparing to detonate it.

"Hey!" She shouted, drawing the man's attention away from the stage. He turned to look at her, just as she closed the remaining distance. Still in motion, she pulled her arm back, balled her hand into a fist, and launched the hardest punch she could muster directly at the Russian's face. Her fist connected with the puzzled man's jaw, sending Yasimov reeling backwards before he stumbled and fell flat on his back. Jade watched as his arm bounced off the concrete, the small cellular device skittering out of his grasp.

Stunned, Yasimov shook his head, not knowing what had hit him until he was already on the ground. Standing over him was the woman that had hollered his name just moments before she had cracked him in the face.

"You bitch." He snarled as he regained his stability, attempting to haul himself back to his feet, blood dribbling down his busted lower lip.

Reaching into one of her many hidden pockets, she withdrew her baton and flicked it open, making a grand show of the gesture. Stepping on the fallen man's chest she pointed the baton at his face and said, "I suggest you stay down if you know what's best for you, Colonel."

Curling his lips, showing his disdain for the woman, his eyes momentarily drifted to the side, gazing over Jade's shoulder. Seeing the subtle look, Jade spun, ready to face whatever threat was sneaking up behind her.

Just as she did, her eyes fell upon the police man she had seen earlier behind the stage. He was running straight for her at a full on sprint. A pistol clutched in his hand, he leveled it at her chest the moment she had turned and saw him. Reaching behind her back for her own pistol, she knew the attempt was futile. She could not draw, aim, and fire before her new enemy could squeeze the trigger. However, she would be damned if she wouldn't at least try.

Just as he was close enough for Jade to see his vulgar smirk, the man twisted and jerked. Staggering as he lost his forward momentum, Jade saw a spray of blood burst from the man's neck. Reaching up to grasp his wound he dropped his weapon and crumpled to his knees. Seconds later the man's upper chest exploded as a second round ripped into his body, splattering bits of flesh and blood onto the ground as his now lifeless body teetered then fell.

"Thanks." Jade exhaled in her comm unit."Nice shooting." The entire encounter could not have last more than a few seconds.

 _"Now we're even."_ Corbin replied. A moment later, she heard the agent say, _"Yasimov."_ Turning back towards her original opponent she saw the blonde Russian was on his hands and knees, attempting to scramble back to his feet. His eyes darted furiously across the ground, searching for the dropped cell phone he needed in order to detonate the bomb.

Baton gripped tightly again, Jade swung at the Colonel's knee. The impact made a sickening crunch as Nikolai collapsed back to the ground. Rolling over, he clutched his wounded joint and glared daggers at the woman. "I'll kill you for this."

As if his statement suddenly reminded him that he was armed, the enraged Russian reached for his sidearm. Just as he pulled the weapon free of the holster and began to raise it towards Jade, she swung the baton again. The sharp twang of the weapon smacking into Yasimov's wrist caused the man to howl and drop his weapon; she must have shattered at least a few bones. Smiling down at her wounded prey, Jade mocked, "What were you saying?"

Yasimov attempted to sneer at the woman, but instead ended up wincing as pain shot through his broken wrist and banged up knee.

A moment later, Inspector Kovar and his agent pushed through the still startled, but thinning crowd. Looking down at the battered Yasimov, Kovar glanced up at Jade and gave her an approving grin. "Good work, Miss Jade."

"This creep is done." She replied, watching the second INTERPOL agent manhandle Yasimov into a sitting position and cuff his hands behind his back.

"Just because you have me does not mean we will fail." Yasimov declared as the agent pulled him to his feet, unconcerned that he was probably causing the Russian greater injury.

Holding out Yasimov's cell phone, Kovar stated "Well, we have this. No one is detonating any bomb today."

His bravado promptly deflated when he saw the phone in Kovar's hand. Yasimov hung his head, ashamed for having failed his mission.

"Do not worry, Colonel," Kovar laughed sarcastically. "They say The Hague is quite nice this time of year."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the crows parted around him, Race propelled himself forward, then side stepped in order to change directions and follow Vostok as the General hurried off the stage, his hostage still held firmly in his grip.

"Let her go, Vostok!" Race yelled as he continued to close the distance between himself and Vostok.

Gritting his teeth, Race dove when he saw Vostok spin and fire off a few quick potshots in his general direction. The move had bought Vostok a few valuable seconds as Race quickly looked around, hoping that the random bullets had not hit any innocent bystanders. A frightened cry drew Race's mind back towards the fleeing Russian, his concentration focused solely on apprehending the criminal.

Back on his feet and moving, Race sprinted with all his strength, reaching Vostok just moments before the man disappeared into a nearby alleyway.

"I said let her go." Race barked as he vaulted himself into the duo, hoping to break Vostok's hold on the woman.

Caught off guard by Race's unexpected move, Vostok staggered as the muscled American slammed against both himself and his hostage, forcing all three back and smacking into the wall of the building directly behind them. The force of the blow broke Vostok's hold on the terrified woman and as she slipped and fell, she scurried off on hands and knees, more concerned with fleeing to safety than any physical pain she felt.

Vostok sneered as his hostage escaped, but he still held his weapon firmly in his hand. Swinging to bring the weapon to bear on his American foe, Vostok took aim and fired.

Ducking under the Russian's attack, Race nearly avoided being gunned down at point blank range. Twisting, he drove an elbow straight into Vostok's tight midsection, forcing the man back again. Shooting upward, Race latched on to the General's outstretched firing arm, twisted again and threw the Soviet over his shoulder in perfect execution of the martial arts maneuver.

"Give it up, Vostok." Race ordered, "This is over."

"Never."

Having lost his weapon, the Soviet got back to his feet. Balling his hands into fists, Vostok threatened, "Prepare to die, you American scum."

Just as Race set his feet, prepared to battle his much larger opponent, a chorus of automatic gunfire erupted, bullets flying past, slamming into the buildings and sidewalk. Diving for cover, Race saw two of Vostok's gunmen approaching, AK-74s firing directly at him.

Crawling across the sidewalk, desperately searching for some type of cover, Race swore to himself as he heard Vostok's amused laugh.

Saddling up behind an overturned vendor cart, Race pulled his firearm. As he prepared to engage, he hurt a grunt, followed by a second grunt a moment later. Peering around the edge, he saw both gunmen collapse, dropping their weapons, a few random rounds popped off from their rifles before going silent.

 _"Sorry about the delay."_ Phil said into Race's ear. _"These other snipers can't seem to line up their shots very well."_

Rae shook his head at Corbin's blasé diss, "Thanks, partner." On his feet, he searched for Vostok once again and saw the Russian disappear into the shadowy recess of the alleyway.

 _"Go in there and you have no cover."_ Phil stated into Race's ear.

Ignoring Phil's warning, Race holstered his weapon and sprinted head-on into the alley. "I'm not letting him get away."

Setting his sights on the fleeing Vostok, Race pushed himself harder than ever. At the end of the alley, Vostok rounded the corner as the alley hooked directly off to the right. Not slowing a step, Race began to close the distance with his larger, but slower nemesis. Reaching the corner only seconds after Vostok did, Race recalled the last time he entered a blind alley and tucked into a tight roll. His perseverance proved invaluable as Vostok was lying in wait for him.

Swinging a large wooden two-by-four he had picked up from a pile of trash, Vostok was surprised when his pursuer rolled, causing his swing to come into contact with nothing but air, spinning him around and off balance from his body's momentum.

Launching out of his combat roll and back to his feet, Race slammed into the shocked and off-balance man and they both crashed back to the dirty ground. Clambering on top of Vostok, Race let loose a flurry of punches to the stunned man's face.

Even against the onslaught of hits, Vostok regained his composure, reached up, and clamped his meaty hands around the American's neck. Grinning with satisfaction, Vostok tightened his grip and squeezed. Race tried not to panic as he felt his throat being crushed by the General's vise-like grip. Spots started to form in the edge of his vision; Race knew he had only seconds before the Soviet crushed his throat.

Leaning down, he drove an elbow directly into Vostok's face, shattering the man's nose in a spray of blood. Vostok howled, but amazingly did not let go. His mind starting to shut down, Race threw another elbow, then reached forward and jammed his thumbs into Vostok's eyes.

Yowling in pain, the General released him and Race rolled off of his enemy and onto his back, sucking in deep breaths, ignoring the pain the action caused.

Getting back to his feet, Vostok kicked; his heavy boot connecting with Race's midsection. "You Americans have interfered for the last time." He growled as he went for Race's handgun.

Reaching forward, Race wrapped his arms around Vostok's legs and pulled. Wind-milling his arms, Vostok attempted to stay on his feet, but again was pulled back down to the ground. Scrambling back to his feet, Race lashed out with a downward thrusting kick to Vostok's broken nose and mouth, connecting with the Russian's bloodied face.

"Stay down!" Race spat, the anger in his damaged voice echoing off of the alleyway's walls.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood and broken teeth, Vostok sneered. "You will never take me alive, comrade."

"I'm not your fucking comrade." Race replied as he pulled his handgun, pointing it at the fallen man. "And I have no problem obliging with your request."

To Race's surprise, Vostok began to laugh. Momentarily confused, he lowered his handgun ever so slightly as he stood over Vostok. As he did, Vostok bent a knee and kicked out and up, connecting with Race's groin and sending the I-1 agent staggering and falling to his knees.

"Foolish American!" Vostok laughed as he scrambled back to his feet.

Glancing at the end of the alley, which was no more than half a block away, Race saw a vehicle appear then brake quickly.

"I have no more time for your games, American. My only regret is not being able to kill you for foiling my plans, but perhaps we shall meet again."

Working his way back to his feet, Race wavered. Lashing out Vostok landed a solid right hook to Race's jaw, sending him back to his knees, bent over in pain. With another deep laugh, Vostok said, "Until next time, comrade."

Turning his back to Race, the Russian General ran to the end of the alley, jumped into his waiting getaway jeep and fled.

Groaning as he pulled himself back to his feet, Race cursed as he headed to the end of the alley, but too late; Vostok was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.**

 **Chapter 15**

Race rubbed his injured throat as he emerged from the alleyway back into the heart of Wenceslas Square. Shaking his head with a sigh he stopped and watched as emergency personnel rushed back about, attending the injured and frightened civilians that had no idea about the real catastrophe Race and his team had prevented. His eyes drifted towards the stage where paramedics worked on the injured Mayor. White sheets, stained dark red in some sports, covered Vostok's other three victims. Race grimaced, realizing that while they had stopped the Russian from carrying out his ultimate attack, they had not been stop the killings completely.

Waving off a young police officer as he approached the battered agent, Race headed towards a group that included Jade and Kovar. Approaching, he smiled haphazardly when he saw they stood over Colonel Yasimov and one other Russian. Both men sat on the curb, hands secured behind their backs, heads hung low shame.

Seeing Race, Jade smiled and trotted over to meet him. As they met, she flung her arms around him, squeezing the injured American in a tight embrace. Pulling back, she saw the disappointment and anger in his eyes, "Vostok?" She asked, but since Race didn't have the Russian mastermind in custody, she really already knew the answer.

"The son of a bitch got away." Race grumbled.

Jade could hear the self-directed anger in Race's voice, but from the looks of him, he definitely put up a fight. Squeezing his hands encouragingly, she smiled in an attempt to alleviate his pain. A moment later, Corbin joined the duo. He still held the modified M14, but Race saw that Phil had removed the magazine and locked the bolt to the rear; it was obvious to both men that the Russian threat was over, at least fot the time being.

"Too bad about Vostok." Phil rested the rifle on his shoulder as he spoke.

Shaking his head, Race replied, "I let him get away."

"Trust me, Bannon, I know what that brute's fists feel like," Phil replied lightly, "and by the looks of it, so do you."

"That's not the point, Phil." Race muttered.

At that moment, one of Kovar's men came over and set the recovered black gym bag down in front of the group. Yasimov and his man briefly looked up, but then lowered their heads again in defeat.

Smirking at the Russians' dejected state, Kovar stated, "So much for them. We have the bomb and the bio-agent and by these two's reactions, this was the last one."

Race stroked his chin, "True, but Vostok is still on the loose."

Walking up to the group, Alena Stasny announced with firm determination, "We've already put the word out for our forces, both law enforcement and military, to be on the lookout for him."

"Let's just hope they find him before he gets back across the Russian border." Phil stated.

Nodding thankfully at the assembled group, Alena then added, "The Czech Government thanks each and every one of you for what you've done."

"That's what we do." Race replied. "But I'd feel a lot better if I hadn't let him get away. Damnit!"

"Relax, Race." Phil suggested in response to Race's frustration. At the same moment his Czech spotter came up next to him and with a frown Phil handed the M14 back to the Garrison soldier. Continuing he offered, "Sometimes we don't always get our target."

Race saw the subtle look Corbin gave Jade as he spoke. He also noticed that Jade picked up on it as well, her lips curling into a faint, almost smug, smile.

"Vostok is on the run. You have his second in command in custody and we have his bomb. For now, I'd say he's done for. Overall, I think that's some pretty good work." Jade threw in, trying to lighten the mood.

Seeming to accept her statement, Race nodded. Turning his attention to Phil, he asked, "So what now?"

Shrugging, Corbin sighed. "Now, the _fun_ stuff begins; writing reports and briefing the boss."

"I'll take this opportunity to hand command back over to you." Race smiled as he slapped Corbin on the shoulder.

"Thanks," Rolling his eyes, Phil motioned for Race to follow him off to the side. Once out of ear shot of the others he said, "You did a hell of a job, Bannon. Rest assured it will reflect in my report."

"Thanks, Phil. I appreciate that. I don't know about you, but I could use a drink right about now."

"Agreed. The sooner I start writing this report, the sooner it'll be done and over."

Looking back at the group, Race shook his head as he realized that while he and Phil had been talking, Jade had taken the opportunity to quietly slip away.

Seeing, Race's reaction to the woman's disappearance, Phil chuckled and slapped his friend on the shoulder. "It appears you are in for some interesting times with that woman."

Race nodded with a sigh, "She's something else, I'll say that much."

"I bet she is." Phil teased. "Let's finish up so we can head out of here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Finishing the last of his scotch, Race set the glass down atop the wooden bar and motioned for the bartender to bring him another, as well as another for Corbin. The two men had relocated to a bar across the street from their hotel once they had seen Colonel Yasimov and the other Russian carted off by the local police. Not wanting to be in the way of the emergency responders, the I-1 men had made their exit with Phil ensuring Inspector Kovar, Major Horak, and Alena Stasny that they'd be in touch prior to departing their country.

The bar was dark and solemn, which to Race was just fine after the chaotic rollercoaster he had just been through since arriving in Prague; he was happy for a moment of peace and quiet.

"That was some pretty fine shooting you did from that rooftop," Race said with a subtle raise of his glass in Phil's direction, a silent thanks to his partner for having his back. "I had no idea you were a marksman."

Shrugging, Phil replied, "Thanks. You were pretty good yourself back there at the Symposium. I read your file, knew you had the skills, but seeing you work…seriously, man, that was impressive. You didn't even flinch when you were disarming that bomb."

Race responded with a laugh, "I'm just glad I didn't have to do it a second time. Having to diffuse or disarm a device more than once on the same mission is considered bad luck."

"I didn't know you were superstitious." Phil said as he sipped his drink.

"I'm not really, but hey, why push it, right?"

"Agreed." Phil replied. Glancing at his watch, he took another sip and said, "Look, Bannon, why don't you take the rest of the night off. I'll contact HQ to pass along the verbal and then start writing up the initial report."

Race set his drink down, "Are you sure?"

"It's really just a one man job at this point. I'll have to write up the final report when we get back to D.C."

"Thanks, Phil."

"You earned it, Race." Phil said in his trademark serious tone. "We could be heading out as early as tomorrow morning, so enjoy your last night in Prague."

Tossing the last of his scotch back in one gulp, Race stood. Slapping Phil on the shoulder, he said with a cheerful leer, "Try not to spend all night writing reports, if you know what I mean."

Rolling his eyes, Phil joked, "I'll see you at seven A.M. tomorrow morning in the hotel lobby."

"See ya then." Race nodded with sly grin. Tossing the appropriate amount of korunas on the bar to cover the drinks, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and left, headed back to the hotel.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Race rounded the corner to his room, what he saw almost knocked him flat. It certainly stopped him in his tracks and he stood staring mouth agape and unable or unwilling to do anything about it. Slowly, his lips turned upward into a knowing smile as he finally managed to shut his mouth and stop drooling.

Jade stood in his doorway, wearing the epitome of a little black dress: short, curve-hugging and with a V-neck that teased the line between classy and inappropriate. Her arms were raised over her head, leaning against either side of the doorframe, her hips cocked to one side, intentionally showing off her luscious curves. In one hand she held a champagne bottle, in the other a pair of crossed champagne saucers.

She wore a mischievous smirk that got Race's blood pumping. Even with all the time he had already spent with the racy woman, the way her stare now bore through him suggested that he hadn't even begun to experience what she was truly capable of doing to him.

Her eyes, piercingly green and slightly narrowed, continued to pin Race right where he stood. She waited until he finally met her gaze full on before letting her eyes sweep down along his body and up again.

"So," Jade purred as Race finally dislodged himself from where he stood and approached. Lowering her arms, she playfully swirled her index finger along the stem of one of the champagne saucers; the suggestive motion was enough to send Race's heart pounding into overtime. "You always keep a girl waiting, handsome?"

"I," Race started, however instead of continuing he leaned down and furiously wrapped the woman up into his arms, their lips locking with turbulent passion in a heartbeat.

Reaching into his pocket, Race fumbled with his room key as Jade nibbled at his ear. Once he had inserted the key, he kicked the door open with such force that for a slight moment he thought he might have actually damaged it. Half carrying, half pushing, Race led Jade through the threshold, before giving the door another swift kick to ensure it closed.

"Woah there, tiger," Jade giggled as the couple moved as one deeper into the suite. Barely managing to set the saucers and champagne bottle down without breaking them as they whisked past a random end table, she pulled back ever so slightly from her companion in order to gaze into his hungry eyes. "You're awfully feisty."

Staring back at her, Jade discovered the yearning in Race's eyes; a deep yearning that caused a fiery shudder to course through her veins and ignite a longing for him that up until that moment, she had mistaken for just a playful, sexual attraction to his ruggedly handsome visage.

As he bent slightly and pressed his lips to the underside of her chin, she moaned involuntarily as his tongue teased her soft skin ever so lightly. At the same time, his strong hands explored her back, working to alleviate her of her little black dress. Leaning into him, she felt the tightness of his muscled chest and ab as she slid her hands up and under his shirt. Her fingers grazed delicately across the now healing gunshot wound that he had received back on the stairs of the Castle; as they did she felt a momentary twitch from him in response to her touch, but just as quickly as it happened, it was gone.

As the rush of excitement grew, she pushed his restricting clothing upward, forcing Race to lean back and pull the shirt up and over his head. Flinging it aside, he immediately pressed his mouth against Jade's again, their tongues working in tandem as they kissed with a deep desire that neither had felt for anyone else before. Seconds later she felt her dress slip from her shoulders; she moaned with unbridled lust in response to Race's groaning reaction as he watched her garment slip to the floor, revealing nothing more than her scant, silk panties beneath.

Lips still locked in fierce passion, Race shuffled his feet, guiding Jade backwards until the back of her legs bumped up against his bed. She shot him a seductive look moments before he leaned down into her again, a hand cupping and fondling her firm, perfect breasts as her own hands worked to unclasp his belt before moving on to finish loosening his pants.

Stepping back, Race smiled and kept his eyes locked with Jade's as he finished undressing. Moving back to her, he grasped her hips, hooking his thumbs under her panties, tugging them free with a slow, seductive motion. As their lips met again, Race pressed his body against Jade's, pushing her down and pinning her under him, as they both moaned with heightened anticipation, lust, and want.

Lips exploring her neck, hands travelling up the inner portion of her thighs, Race burned with such a furor that he poured every ounce of strength he had left into his sensual and erotic aches.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs hooking over his hips, Jade bit down on her lower lip and moaned with throbbing pleasure as she allowed Race Bannon do with her as he pleased.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, Race grumbled when he saw the smirk on Phil's face. Even with the amazing night he'd spent in the company of Jade, she had managed to once again give him the slip. Sometime in the early hours of the morning Jade had made her exit, leaving Race with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek and a note with the words _'Until next time, handsome'_ lying on nightstand. However, this time he had been ready for her.

Walking up to his partner, Race saw the amused, but also somewhat tired look spread across Corbin's face; he also took note that Phil did not have his bags with him.

"What's with the sour look?" Phil asked with a smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. "She get the best of you again?"

"How was your night?" Race asked in an attempt to direct the attention away from himself.

"Tiresome," Phil replied with a mock yawn. "And by the look on your face, yours was about the same."

"I need the plane." Race grumbled.

Phil burst out a laugh at Race's statement. "Oh really? You just _need_ the plane?"

"I'm going after her, Phil. I need to know what she took from Doctor Arman's office. There's no way she was only after a bag of jewels."

"What makes you so sure?"

He decided to leave out the details of his overnight encounter with Jade, but he also knew that Corbin was no fool and guessed the other man knew full well what was going on between him and Jade. _'Besides,'_ Race told himself _, 'it's not like he's hiding his relationship with Alena either.'_

"She thinks she gave me the slip, but I got the one up on her this time." Race explained with a sly smile as he reached into his pocket and held up a cell phone. Pulling the protective cover off the back of the device, he revealed a small foreign electronic chip that was nestled just over the battery. "A few nights ago I cloned her number and used this trap and trace to start recording her calls. After she gave us the slip at the Square yesterday, she made three calls to the same number. I even managed to get a wide area trace on the location of the cell phone that she called."

Nodding approvingly, Phil asked, "And where would that be?"

Standing a bit straighter, Race replied, "Bangkok."

Phil cocked an eyebrow at Race with a guff, "So you want to use the plane to go to Thailand and chase down Jezebel Jade?"

"Pretty much." Race nodded. "And besides, I see you don't have your bags with you at the moment, so,"

Once again, Phil gave the other man an approving nod. Then clasping a hand on Race's shoulder, he said, "Lucky for you, I haven't been cleared to fly at the moment. I guess my head isn't as hard as yours. Thanks to Vostok using my face as a punching bag I now have to take a train to Landstuhl to get tests done before I'm cleared to fly back home."

"How long is that going to take?"

"Oh at least a week," Phil grinned sarcastically. "I mean, I hate to get stuck in Europe, but I guess that's the price I have to pay."

Race laughed. For a man seemed to adhere to protocol more often than not, he found it refreshing to know that Corbin could also bend the rules for a little well deserved R&R. "At least you'll have someone to keep you company, right?"

"Yeah." Phil muttered with a smile as he thought about Alena; Race wasn't the only one on this assignment that had found time to get intimately acquainted.

"So can I have the plane or what?" Race finally asked, snapping his partner's attention back to the task at hand.

With a wave, Phil said, "Take it. I'll get a commercial flight back to D.C. whenever I'm cleared and done here. Just let the Captain know what's going on."

Shaking hands with his partner, Race said, "Thanks, Phil. I appreciate it."

"Good luck. Just keep me updated. I can cover for you for a couple weeks, a month at the most before the Director will start to get on my ass about where you're at. If you haven't tracked her down and recovered whatever it is she stole by that time, you'll have to let it go. You get what I mean?"

"I hear what you're saying, Corbin." Race responded as a quiver of eagerness jolted through his blood; he was about to head out on his first overseas solo mission.

"When you get back to D.C. come by my office. I have a few upcoming assignments you might be interested in."

"Will do." Race said as Phil turned to go back to his room. Before he left Race added, "And thanks again for bringing me on this assignment, Phil. It was quite an experience."

"It sure has been." Phil nodded. "Like I said back at the Square, you did a hell of a job, Race. Regardless of what others back at I-1 headquarters may think, I never doubted your abilities or your dedication. And for what it's worth, I think you can finally put Greenland and Greg's death behind you."

Pausing for just a moment to let his statement sink in, Phil then headed off to get ready for his trip.

Race digested Phil's words for a moment as he watched him go before realizing he had to do the same. It was a long flight to Thailand and he had to be ready as soon as he landed; he wasn't about to let Jade give him the slip again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

With both his hands and feet shackled and chained, Nikolai Yasimov was forced to shuffle forward as he was led out into the bitterly cold morning. Unsure of the actual time, Nikolai did know that it was many hours before dawn just by the pitch black darkness of the star filled sky.

The air was filled with the heavy smell of exhaust fumes coming from the unmarked, black SUV waiting to take him across Europe, eventually depositing him in another prison cell in The Hague, where he would wait to stand trial for his crimes before the International Criminal Court.

Scowling, he was not happy with his fate, however his loyalty to not only General Vostok and the cause, but also to Mother Russia was so solid that he had infuriated his captors by not giving them any information. No matter how much they promised Nikolai, or how much they slapped him around, he had remained silent, never uttering a word except his name and rank once they had carted him off from the Square.

Shoving him into the far back seats of the SUV, his jailers laughed as Yasimov stumbled, due to his restraints, and smacked his forehead against the interior roof of the vehicle.

' _Laugh all you want,'_ the blonde Russian grumbled inwardly, ' _Eventually you all shall see the might of the Soviet Union.'_

Sometime later, Yasimov blinked a number of times as he witnessed the blackened darkness night began to transform in to the grey calm of dawn. He must have dossed off, as he did not remember when they had left the city and ended up in the lonely European countryside. Glancing out the window, he watched as nameless villages, nestled amongst the brownish-green hills, rolled by as each passing marker brought him closer to his final destination. He was the only prisoner in the vehicle and the other four occupants were Czech prison guards that had been tasked to deliver him to the International Authorities.

He scoffed at the knowledge that the Americans had so nonchalantly dumped him into the hands of the locals. In typical American fashion, the Intelligence agents had moved on to whatever was next for them, not even giving a second thought to Yasimov. ' _They will come to regret such a decision.'_ Yasimov thought to himself with a sneer.

A panicked shout from the driver tore the disgraced Colonel from his inner monologue. Looking forward, Yasimov smiled as he saw the guard in the front passenger seat pointing straight ahead down the road. The driver hit the brakes, screeching the tires and sending up a cloud of smoke in response, but at the speed they were travelling the large vehicle could not stop fast enough. Attempting to brace himself, Nikolai grinned as the tires of the SUV ran over the almost invisible stop-spikes that had been stretched across the gloomy, deserted road.

Jerking the wheel, the young, inexperienced driver sent the disabled vehicle into a frantic spin as the loss of traction and grip caused the heavy SUV to tip then roll. Anxious screams and grunts of pain filled Nikolai's ears as the vehicle continued to flip and roll down the lonely road.

Seconds later, the SUV stopped with an agonizing bounce. Amazingly it was right side up, but just hovering near the edge of a short drop off on the side of the road. Moans of pain and confusion came from the guards as they attempted to ascertain what had just happened.

Nikolai grinned as he saw the blood-covered driver glance wearily out the shattered driver's door window only moments before he shrieked; a terrified cry that was drowned out from the sickening impact of another large SUV slamming head on into the door. The transport SUV, now damaged and immobilized, was launched over the edge and into the ditch, tumbling down to come to a rest on its side.

Coughing, Yasimov felt a warm, wet trail of blood running down the side of his own face as the interior began to fill with smoke and haze.

Shouts came from outside and as his eyes attempted to adjust to the scene, he saw the lifeless body of the driver being yanked out of vehicle through the hole that once held the windshield. Mumbles laced with confusion and fear came from the other three guards as they were also pulled free of the wreckage.

Crawling on his hands and knees as best as he could, Yasimov reached one of the openings and felt a pair of hands reach in and drag him clear as well. Being hauled to his feet, Yasimov's head spun as a result of the wreck, and it took him a moment to realize the men that pulled him from the vehicle still held on to him, one securing each of his arms in an effort to keep him steady.

Looking around in confusion, he raised one arm and wiped blood from just above his eyes. "What is going on here?" He asked to no one in particular. He saw that the three remaining guards were on their knees, hands clasped behind their heads as another man armed with an AK-74 stood before them.

"Good to see you again so soon, comrade."

Yasimov smiled at the sound of his friend's voice. Striding through the fog, General Vostok came to stand before the Nikolai. Placing his strong hands on the Colonel's shoulders, Vostok said, "We could not let them take you to The Hague. Your loyalty to myself and the Motherland would not allow it, Nikolai."

"Thank you, Sir." He replied as he attempted to stifle a cough. "I told them nothing."

Nodding with approval, Vostok said, "I know that, old friend."

The big Russian snapped his fingers and one of the men holding Yasimov worked to remove the Colonel's restraints. Once free, Nikolai stretched; he was sore and in pain, but would never show such weakness in front of the General or their nameless confederates.

"Now, Nikolai, we must leave no witnesses." Vostok said with a devilish grin as he handed the Colonel a revolver.

Without hesitation, Yasimov took the weapon, opened the cylinder to verify it was loaded and with an audible snap, closed it in such a way to cause the three terrified guards to flinch.

"We will wait for you at the top of the hill, Nikolai." Vostok said and motioned for the other three men to head back. As he walked up the bank, Vostok looked back over his shoulder and added, "It is good to have you back at my side."

"It is good to be back, General." Yasimov responded.

Standing next to their own vehicle, a vicious grin spread across Vostok's countenance as three shots shattered the peaceful grey dawn of morning. The sharp cracks sent a group of quails into a startled flight and signaled to any soul that might be within earshot that General Vostok would never be stopped so easily.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **To Be Continued…**

 **A/N: So far I have received a lot of assistance with this story from Goddess Evie. From her initial suggestion of writing a Race Bannon "prequel" of sorts, to help with a lot of areas where I was stuck or not as comfortable writing certain types of scenes as I am with other types. I wanted to give her the proper recognition she deserves! This story wouldn't be what it is without her!**

 **The scene with Jade waiting for Race at his hotel room was all thanks to Goddess Evie. I needed help and she provided what you see of Jade up to the point where they begin to get intimate. I did some fine tuning, but the body of those paragraphs are from G.E.**


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Wow, just wow!" Jonny exclaimed when Race had finished his tale. "How have you never told us that story before?"

He was so engrossed in his memories and the recounting of the story, Race hadn't even noticed that Doctor Quest, Hadji, and Jessie had joined them in the living room. With a laugh he replied, "I don't know, it just never really came up I suppose."

"What I find intriguing, besides the entire incident of course," Hadji said with a smoothness that reflected an even deeper respect for their bodyguard. "Is that you and Doctor Quest were at the same Symposium, but never actually met."

Benton nodded, "I-1 gave me a handful of Agents' files that the organization was looking at to assign to us. When I read your file, Race, and saw that it was you that had diffused that bomb in Prague, I knew you were the one. You saved this family before you even knew who we were, so I figured you were the best man for the job."

Blushing, Race rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, again, it was probably one of the most unique and challenging assignments I ever had. After what Phil and I went through together I knew he was one of those guys that you want on your side. I asked him to be your godfather after that mission, Jess."

Jessie smiled, but then asked, "So what happened with Jade?" Even though she made clear on numerous occasions that she did not care for her father's on again-off again love interest, the story of mystery and intrigue had definitely sucked Jessie in.

"Yeah, did you ever find her in Thailand?" Jonny asked eagerly.

Laughing softly, Race replied, "You could say that, Jonny."

"And? What happened? What did she steal?"

"And that is a story for another time." Race responded cryptically with a smile that told the young Quest that whatever happened in Bangkok was something that would remain a secret…at least for a while longer.

 **THE END**


End file.
